


Meet Your Mark

by SylvieW



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Dating, Discrimination, Fluff, Kidnapping, M/M, Soulmates, Well Adjusted Derek, alternating pov, meet the pack, outsider pov, social ostracization, soul marks, werewolves are known
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 22:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20415052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvieW/pseuds/SylvieW
Summary: Stiles was born with his mark on his chest. He didn’t worry too much about meeting his soulmate, until he got pulled into the principal’s office to determine if his soulmate was part of the werewolf pack that lived outside of town.After a rocky start, Stiles has to get to know his soulmate, and decide between the life he’s known and a life with Derek.





	Meet Your Mark

**Author's Note:**

> This has been languishing on my computer nearly finished for months and it seemed a shame to just leave it. It's not as fleshed out as I usually prefer but its a nice bit of fun.
> 
> If there is something that you feel could be better tagged please let me know.
> 
> Enjoy!

*******

Stiles was born with the mark on his chest. High enough that it was nearly above his collarbone, aligned with his shoulder blade. He’d been told he was lucky, some people had their mark form later in life. Some didn’t have it at all.

Stiles didn’t really see the benefit of having his mark when he was born. Either he’d find his soulmate, the match to his mark, or he wouldn’t. When the mark formed didn’t matter. He knew because he’d looked it up. He’d spent hours looking for statistics on soulmarks, and there was nothing to suggest it was better to be born with one. He’d asked Heather if it hurt when hers had formed, but she had scrunched up her nose, trying to explain with, “kinda?” and “but it was a good hurt.” Stiles didn’t ask anyone else.

Some people displayed their soulmarks for everyone to see, even drawing attention to them with their clothes or jewelry, and Stiles wasn’t sure if they did it in the hope of finding their soulmate faster or if they just liked the look. There were still more who claimed that what your mark was said something about who you were. Your personality, the life you’d live, the kind of person you’d be. Stiles thought that was as much bullshit as star signs and palm readings. 

There were other people that kept theirs hidden, determined that the only one to see their mark would be their soulmate. Stiles was closer in line with those people. He didn’t like strangers looking at his mark, so he only let a select few see it. He’d decided he trusted Scott enough to show him the three-pronged swirl, and that was only so that if Scott ever saw the matching mark, he’d know to tell Stiles.

He showed Lydia in his junior year. She told him it was called a triskele, but also that her own didn’t match. 

In senior year, Scott’s arrow matched with the girl who’d just moved to town. She’d lined up their wrists and said with pride, “Almost all of my family has had arrow marks.”

After that, Daelher kept trying to get a closer look at Scott’s mark. Stiles didn’t know why, it wasn’t like Scott had made an effort to hide it like Stiles did, and there was no question that he and Allison matched. Matt and Allison didn’t. Taking a closer look at the mark that matched Allison’s wouldn’t fix that.

It wasn’t important though, because Matt saw Stiles’ mark instead. It was unsettling for Stiles to see Matt’s eyes slide over his chest in the changeroom, but he’d tugged his shirt on quickly and put it out of his mind.

He’d forgotten about it completely by the time he got called to see the principal. He was trying to figure out what he’d done as he walked into Gerard Argent’s office. Mr. Argent hadn’t been at the school for long, even less time than Allison, but he’d already made a lot of changes. Very few were for the better.

Stiles didn’t expect the office to be full of people. His own father was sitting in one of the chairs stationed before the desk, still in uniform. Both of Allison’s parents were there, and Lydia’s mom who was on the school board.

“Dad?” Stiles asked, eyeing the adults.

“Stiles,” Gerard said with an oily smile. “You’re not in trouble,” he was with a false laugh. “We’d just like to see your soulmark.”

Recoiling at the idea, Stiles watched his father’s face to see what he thought, but it remained blank. His index finger was tapping on the chair though. Thanks to his profession, the Sheriff knew how to look impassive, but Stiles knew what to look for. His father was no more comfortable with this than he was. “I don’t really like showing it to anyone. Call me old fashioned,” Stiles said, with a slanted smile, shrugging to say _what can you do?_

“I understand,” Gerard said, except that he didn’t because then he said, “but I’m sure you can trust the people here. We’ve all found our soulmates. We just need one look at yours. Just to put some concerns to bed.”

“Concerns?” Stiles echoed. “Like what?”

Chris Argent laid an open book on Gerard’s desk. It depicted a variety of soulmarks, all variations of a three pronged spiral like Stiles. A triskele. “There’s a family native to this area that tends to have marks like these.”

“So?” Stiles said, trying not to admit that his mark looked very much like those on the page. It excited him to know that if the family was from here, they might be nearby.

“They’re werewolves,” Chris said, and Stiles’ excitement vanished.

Werewolves. Savage creatures that could take on the appearance of humans. They could walk among them, until they were overcome by their instincts and ripped someone apart. Since they couldn’t be trusted, werewolves were...encouraged to stay within their forests, with their packs. It wasn’t illegal for them to come into town, not exactly, but they sure as shit weren’t welcome.

“Mr. Argent,” the Sheriff said. “I fail to see how Stiles’ soulmark is any of your business, or that of the school board.”

“It’s a matter of safety,” Gerard said. “We can’t have a werewolf sniffing around the school looking for its mate. Someone could be hurt if it goes into a frenzy.”

“The Hale pack only leaves the Preserve when necessary. In fact, the only reason there aren’t werewolves in this school right now is because they agreed to homeschool their children,” Stiles’ father said. “I highly doubt they’re going to suddenly decide they want to wander through a high school hunting down kids who might have spiral soulmarks.” 

“Triple spiral,” Chris said, pointing to the book, but Gerard spoke over him.

“Werewolves are unpredictable, Mr. Stilinski. I can’t possibly imagine what they might do in pursuit of a mate.” Gerard turned his pale eyes back on Stiles. “If you could show us the mark--”

“And then what?” The Sheriff uncrossed his legs, leaning forward like they were friends having a chat. “How will seeing Stiles’ mark help you protect the school? Any of these kids could be walking around with a mark like that. If werewolves are at such risk of bursting in and starting a massacre, we should be prepared regardless.”

“The Hale pack isn’t terribly large,” Chris said, “And there aren’t many of them that don’t have their soulmates already.”

“The sooner they find them, the less likely they’ll come looking,” Gerard said, his eyes flicked up and down Stiles. “If he has the mark, well then, he must have been chosen to help the greater good.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped, and the Sheriff stood up. “This is my son, not some virgin sacrifice.”

Gerard scoffed. “He hardly needs to be a virgin, the werewolf won’t care when he’s--”

“We’re done here.” The Sheriff took Stiles by the shoulders and led him out of the room. 

He didn’t send Stiles to class, instead taking him right out to the parking lot and into his cruiser. Stiles’ hands shook, and he started to count out each breath so he didn’t miss one.

“It’s okay,” his Dad said, squeezing his thigh before returning his hand to the wheel so he could get them out of there. “This doesn’t change anything, Stiles. Either you’ll meet your soulmate or you won’t. Didn’t you tell me just the other day about an article you read about people getting married that didn’t have matching soulmarks? Loving each other and living full lives without them. And people without soulmarks, they get along just fine.”

“Right,” Stiles said, nodding like a bobblehead. “You’re totally right.” He wanted to believe it, but he thought instead of the way his parents would smile at each other and their hands twined together so their wrists touched in just the right spot.

“And you know if you do meet your soulmate and they’re a werewolf, that’s not so bad either,” the Sheriff said.

Stiles lost his count. “What?”

His dad sighed. “Look, I can’t speak for all werewolves, but I’ve dealt with the Hales a number of times.”

“You mean through work, right?” Stiles narrowed his eyes. “How is dealing with a family often _as a sheriff _a ringing endorsement.”

“It’s not because of anything they’ve done,” the Sheriff insisted. “They don’t come into town often, but when they do someone always calls in to report a disturbance. When we get a call saying ‘a werewolf is terrorizing the DMV’ we’re obliged to check it out. And the Hales are always respectful. They’re not pleased to see me but they answer my questions with minimal fuckery and go about their business.”

“Then why do people make the calls in the first place?” Stiles asked. “If they’re not doing anything.”

“Because they’re scared of the possibilities. But it happens almost everywhere they go,” the Sheriff said. “That’s why I’m not worried that they’ll come barging into the school looking for you. They don’t want the trouble.”

Stiles worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Then how do they meet their soulmates?”

“I’ve been told they can recognize scents in a way we can’t, so they don’t always need to see the mark to know who their soulmates are. Maybe that helps.” The Sheriff pulled into their driveway. “Principal Argent can’t force you to do anything, Stiles. We just have to remind him of that, and everything goes back to normal. Okay?”

Offering a smile he didn’t feel, Stiles agreed.

***

He wasn’t sure if it was Matt who started telling people, or someone who’d been in that office wasn’t as discreet as they claimed, but Stiles suddenly found himself the target of hushed whispers and stares that quickly turned away if he made eye contact. Hallways that used to be so crowded he could barely move started parting like the red sea. 

Very few wanted to get near him, touch him, be seen with him. Scott, of course, stuck to his side, but Allison was having daily fights with her parents about even staying at the school, let alone talking to him. Danny offered to be his lab partner when his previous one went crying to Harris. When Stiles asked why, Danny said, “I had a friend who’s soulmate was a werewolf. Haven’t seen him in awhile.”

It took only a week before the whispers turned into sharp jeers spoken in hushed voices. Looks of fear became angry glares, like somehow Stiles had fucked them all over by being born with three swirls on his chest.

He didn’t think he was in any danger walking through the parking lot of the variety store in broad daylight. It didn’t even occur to him to be wary until a man he didn’t recognize called his name. He hesitated for a moment, and cursed himself for it later because it was just enough time for the man to catch up to him. He took off running and thumped straight into another stranger. Between the two of them, they had no trouble pinning him down and jerking a syringe into his side.

It would have been a blessing to pass out completely, but he didn’t. He tried to resist as they moved him, but his limbs were too heavy and weak to move. Everything was spinning around, colours too vivid and nothing taking shape for more than a moment before the world tipped again. Snippets of conversation reached him but it all sounded like nonsense to his ears. He couldn’t tell how much time passed or where they were when he landed hard on dirt packed ground.

“Get up,” someone ordered him.

“What?” Stiles couldn’t tell if he was up or down, if he was moving or everything else was.

“Get up and run.”

Run? Probably a good idea, get far, far away from these people, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even stand.

Someone hauled him to his feet and gave him a shove, causing Stiles to stumble forward. “Go.”

“I can’t,” Stiles mumbled.

A loud bang went off and the dirt at Stiles’ feet sprayed him as he screamed. “What the hell?”

“Run, or I’ll kill you right here.”

Stiles gathered all the strength he could and ran. 

Every step felt like he was swimming through syrup. His heart was pounding out of his chest, and he could barely keep himself upright. The trees around him kept moving, making it even harder for him to dodge them. One of his shoes came off and he could feel his foot being scraped up but if he stopped he knew he wouldn’t be able to start again.

A howl ripped through the air, and stole what little breath he had.

***

Derek stopped running so abruptly Laura slammed into his back. “Did you hear that?”

“What the hell Derek?” Laura said shoving at him.

“Someone screamed,” Derek said. He scented the air and stilled. There was a scent he knew he’d never encountered but was as familiar as home and family. 

Laura smiled a very pointy grin. “Go find them. Follow your instincts, Derek.”

Her mate Jared wrapped an arm around her waist and winked at Derek.

Derek followed the scent until he could hear the source running through the forest. He was so overcome with the need to get to them, he shifted into his wolf form to reach them faster. His mate wasn’t running toward him. He must not be a very good tracker, but that was alright. Derek could track well enough for the both of them. 

He managed to head him off before they reached the river. The boy screamed as Derek broke through the trees beside him, and stumbled over, curling into himself. _Human_ Derek thought. He must not have known Derek was coming. Derek nudged at his foot in apology and his mate stilled.

His smell was intoxicating, and Derek padded closer, snuffling against his back, then his side, up to his neck, licking at the sweat there while the boy’s heart pounded and he started to whimper.

Wait, that wasn’t right.

Derek shook his head to clear the chase away. His mate’s heart was pounding, but it wasn’t from excitement like Derek’s. He reeked of fear, and he breathlessly said, “no, no, no,” over and over.

Derek stepped back, trying to give him some space. The boy curled in on himself, and shook like a leaf. Derek shifted back to his human form and put a hand on his shoulder.

“No!” His mate screamed and shied away, but he couldn’t get very far. He couldn’t seem to focus on anything.

“It’s okay,” Derek said. “You’re okay.” He patted at the boy’s side and sniffed. “You’re not okay,” he muttered to himself. There was a sickly sweet unnatural smell about him that Derek didn’t recognize, but he didn’t think it would be good. “Please, let me help you.” 

Derek lowered himself to the ground next to his mate and started rubbing circles over his back like he did for the children in his pack when they were upset. He felt silly at first when it didn’t change anything, but slowly his mate’s breathing calmed. His heartbeat wasn’t slow by any means, but Derek wasn’t worried it would beat right out of his chest anymore.

His mate didn’t like it at all when Derek picked him up, but he only managed a weak smack of his chest. All things considered, Derek wouldn’t hold it against him. He carried him as quickly as he could, trying not to jostle him too much.

When he reached one of the oak trees they’d stashed clothes in, he set his mate down and rummaged through for boxers, then jeans. They were a bit tight, but he managed. He thought he heard his mate giggle at his efforts to try and get them on, but when he turned around, the boy started to vomit.

A shirt seemed much less important than getting him home, so he shoved the other clothes back into their storage container and picked him up again. His scent was even worse as the sweat grew stale on his skin. 

He’d never been so glad to see his house come into view.

Laura ran out onto the porch but her smile slipped away as soon as she saw them. “Mom! Jocelyn!”

Derek’s mother reached them first and growled when she saw his mate. His aunt wasn’t far behind, and she tutted as she shone a penlight in his eyes and they didn’t give the reaction she wanted. “He’s been drugged with something. I think it would be best to take him to a hospital.”

Talia came with them, but she had Derek’s brother drive since he was fastest. Derek buckled up his mate and held him for the whole time, trying to keep him calm. Ryan barely stopped the car before Derek was lifting the boy out and carrying him inside.

People scrambled out of his way, and most of the nurses raced behind the desk to avoid him, except one. The curly haired woman came straight to him. “Stiles?” She put a careful hand on Derek’s mate’s shoulder and started barking orders at her colleagues. 

Derek was left standing alone as they carted his mate away.

***

When Stiles finally woke up, he wasn’t sure what had really happened and what was part of the strange dreams he had. He was, however, very sure that he’d been attacked, drugged, and threatened into running through the forest. 

The Sheriff was asleep in the chair next to Stiles’ bed, snoring softly, and Stiles just listened for awhile, letting the sound calm him. He knew there would be statements to be made soon enough, but one more moment of rest couldn’t hurt.

The hospital room he was in looked like all the others he’d seen before, bland trying to pretend it was homey, with muted colours and boring landscapes on the wall. Stiles looked over at the bedside table and noticed a scrap of paper there. It took more effort than he’d expected to roll over and grab it, but he was too curious not to. It was ripped off one of the hospital notepads, and held a phone number with no other explanation.

“Melissa said it's from the guy that brought you in,” his dad said, rubbing his eyes. “He didn’t say much else before he left through.”

The first thing that came to mind for Stiles was a wolf not a man, and being so scared he could hardly breath. He also remembered a guy that was totally, definitely naked. Clearest though were the strong lines of his back with a triple spiral in the centre. The same simple swirling design that Stiles had stared at again and again on his own skin.

***

Stiles’ prediction was right and he was glad he’d taken that moment of calm, because it was the last one he got for awhile. Between doctor check ins, deputies taking statements, going down to the station to identify the men they’d picked up and filing charges, it was two days before he could sit down with the phone number.

He entered it into his phone, then wasn’t really sure what to say, so he just wrote,_ Hey _and sent the text. 

The response was immediate, but not what he was looking for. “Shit,” Stiles muttered. “Who still uses landlines?” He glared down at the cheerful message thanking him for using the text to landline service as if he’d done it on purpose.

He paced his floor a few times then bit the bullet and hit call. 

***

Laura sighed as she hung up the phone. Why did all of these wrong numbers have to be texts? That was all they got, wrong numbers and telemarketers. She was settling back onto the couch with her book when the phone rang again.

“Hello?” She answered. She used to answer with “Hale house,” But people would hang up too fast, and she hated not knowing who called.

“Umm. Hi. This is Stiles calling.”

Laura smirked to herself. “What can I help you with Stiles?”

“Uhh, I’m calling for...Well, I don’t know his name.”

“Oh, really?” Laura said, her smirk becoming a grin.

“Yeah, so… well, he had dark hair and he was pretty fit. His soulmark is on his back and it’s a spiral--”

Laura snorted. “You just described most of the guys here.”

The line was quiet for a moment then it went dead and Laura’s amusement died. “Shit.” Maybe he would call again and she could get Derek to answer. Pretend she hadn't taken the call.

“Did the phone ring?” Guess not. Derek was standing in the living room doorway, watching her put down the phone.

“Sort of?” Laura said, and she hated the hopeful look she got. “But he hung up.”

“What?” Laura hated how Derek managed to look like she’d kicked his favourite puppy and also like he was going to murder her for it at the same time.

“He’ll probably call back?” Laura said, but Derek just looked more upset. “Look here, let’s see if we can call him!” She lifted the receiver to redial the number that called, but hit speed dial for her cousin’s phone instead. “Shit.”

“Laura!” Derek stalked over and took the phone from her. “What did you do? Why did he hang up?”

“I don’t know!” Laura said defensively, but she couldn’t hold up against those damn _eyes_. “I laughed, okay? He doesn’t even know your name.”

“So? I’m not sure I know his. What the hell, Laura?” Derek tugged his hair in frustration.

“Stiles.” Laura said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “He said Stiles.”

“Stiles,” Derek echoed. “That’s what I thought.”

“Maybe you could go see him?” Laura said. “If he called that means he wants to talk to you, right?”

“You think?” Derek said worrying at a loose thread on his shirt. “Maybe he just called to tell me to stay away.”

“But you were staying away. There was no need to call to tell you to keep doing that,” Laura pointed out. “He’s probably out of the hospital. Do you think you could find him?”

“Yes,” Derek said without hesitation and Laura smiled. She’d be able to sniff out her mate too.

***

It was surprising how angrily one could do chores. Stiles had never folded a shirt so forcefully in his life. He kept playing the conversation over in his mind as he tried to get his laundry in order and eliminate some of the chaos in his room. What else could he have said? It wasn’t like the guy had left his name or anything.

The tap on his window startled him so much he fell off where he was half kneeling on the bed, and put his foot down quickly. Unfortunately it was the foot that had lost its shoe and the cuts hadn’t healed yet. “Ow, ow, ow.” Stiles hit the ground on his butt. “Ow.”

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to --”

“Holy shit!” Stiles flailed as the guy was suddenly right next to him. “How the hell did you get in here.”

Tall, Dark, and Frowny jerked his thumb at the window that was now open. 

“Did you climb up here?” Stiles asked. “Why? We have a door you know.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, and reached out for Stiles’ foot.

Stiles jerked it away and hissed at the pain the movement caused.

“You’re hurt,” the guy said. “Again.”

“No, still,” Stiles said. “It hurts when I put weight on it, which I did because you startled me.”

“Oh.” The guy’s frown deepened, then he reached for Stiles’ foot again, but this time Stiles wasn’t fast enough to move it. He tried to jerk his ankle out of the firm grip with no success.

“What are you doing?” Stiles hissed as his sock was removed.

“Helping.” He held the bottom of Stiles’ foot carefully in the palm of his hand. Black coloured his veins, and Stiles yanked his foot away.

“What was that?”

Grumpy Gills sighed. “I was trying to take the pain away, but you need to stay still.”

“You can do that?” Stiles looked at his foot and he was pretty sure it hurt a little less, but that might just be the pain fading with time.

“I can if you give me your foot.” Mr. Glare held out his hand pointedly.

Stiles sighed and offered his abused appendage, and Death Glare resumed his position, veins quickly running black again.

“This is weird. You know that, right?” Stiles watched as the colour faded along with his pain. “Climbing in through people's windows and demanding to touch their feet? It’s weird.”

He got an eye roll in response. So he used his good foot to kick the guy in the leg.

“What the hell?” He snarled. “What was that for?”

“How about for scaring the hell out of me in the woods? Or for not even leaving me your name when you ditched me at the hospital? Or for scaring me _again _by climbing up to my window like a stalker?” Stiles pulled his foot out of the guys grip and crab walked backward.

“Derek,” He said. Stiles blinked at him, and he said, “My name’s Derek Hale.”

“Oh. Well, thanks for that I guess.” Stiles grabbed the side of his desk for balance to pull himself to his feet. Derek appeared at his side to steady him.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “Sometimes when I’m looking for something I get in my head too much.”

“What were you looking for?” Stiles asked.

“You.” Derek took Stiles by the shoulders and pushed him into his desk chair and leaned on the desk. “I heard you scream in the woods, and when I caught your scent I knew you were mine. Today, Laura said you called, but she lost your number. We thought since you’d called maybe you wanted to talk to me.”

“I did,” Stiles said. “But I didn’t know your name and she didn’t find my description helpful.” 

Derek grumbled something about annoying sisters with too much time on their hands. “I couldn’t stay with you.”

Stiles wondered if his brain was still muddled because he wasn’t following. “What?”

“You said you kicked me because I left you at the hospital,” Derek elaborated. “They took you away when I got there, I wasn’t allowed to follow them. People get nervous when werewolves hang around places, and we thought it would be best if we didn’t distract the emergency staff. So I left my number with the good nurse that recognized you.”

“Melissa,” Stiles supplied. “You didn’t think to write down your name too? And why didn’t you leave your cell phone number?”

“I don’t have a cell phone,” Derek said with a shrug.

Stiles gaped at him. “Who doesn’t have a cell phone? How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-four, and I don’t need one.” Derek crossed his arms and glared at him.

“Of course you do! How are you supposed to get ahold of people?” 

“Everyone I want to talk to is within shouting distance.” Derek sighed. “Except you.”

“Oh,” Stiles said. Even after his dad had explained how infrequently the Hale family came into town, Stiles hadn’t fully absorbed what that meant. He couldn’t really imagine it. “Well… Anyway, my dad will probably need to get a statement from you.”

“Your dad?” Derek sat down on the edge of Stiles’ bed.

“Yeah, he’s the sheriff,” Stiles explained.

“Sheriff Stilinski?” Derek said. “I’ve met him. He’s decent. Why does he need a statement from me?”

Stiles shrugged sarcastically. “Uh, because you found me wandering around the woods drugged and injured?” 

“You weren’t wandering, you were running,” Derek pointed out. “Why?”

“Oh, right, well…” Stiles explained about Matt seeing his soulmark and the following meeting with the principal. They hadn’t been able to prove yet that the two men that had taken him were connected to Gerard, but they certainly followed his thinking that if they brought Stiles to the wolves, the wolves wouldn’t come to them.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Derek said. “Why would I go rampaging through a school? I’ve never even been there. And why didn’t they bring you to the house if they wanted us to meet so badly?”

“No clue,” Stiles said. “But I’d guess they wanted to avoid getting eaten.”

Derek glared at him. “We’re werewolves not cannibals.”

“I know,” Stiles said. Then he felt a bit guilty because he didn’t know. He’d never really thought about it, and if he’d been having this conversation with someone else, he might have pointed out that it wasn’t really cannibalism if they weren’t human. Details like that didn’t seem so important with Derek right here in front of him.

Derek sighed and headed for the window.

“Where are you going?” Stiles asked limping after them.

“What those men did is insane, and the rest of the people in this town aren’t much better,” Derek said. “I need to talk to my alpha.”

“Alpha?” Stiles had spent the last few weeks alternating between trying to find as much information as possible on werewolves and avoiding even thinking about their existence. He wasn’t sure how accurate the information he’d found was.

“In our pack’s case, my mom,” Derek said. “She’ll want to know about this right away.”

“Sure,” Stiles said, trying to look casual as he dropped onto his bed. “Will you be coming back?”

Derek tapped his fingers on the window ledge and Stiles wondered if he did that a lot with his claws. “I’m not sure. I’d like to see you again, but I don’t know if I can come back into town. Maybe I could call you?”

“Yeah, great, sure,” Stiles said. He’d thought about it a lot since he’d woken up. Derek could have hurt him in a variety of different ways, but while having a wolf appear next to him had terrified him further, he hadn’t caused Stiles any harm. In fact, he’d done the opposite by taking Stiles to the hospital. He hobbled to his desk to grab a pen and rummaged around for a post it. Then he had to find his phone because he couldn’t remember the number (“Shut up, it’s not like I text myself.”)

After tucking the paper in his jeans, Derek went back to the window. He nearly climbed out this time then he stopped, and turned back to Stiles. “Yes?”

“Can I see it?” Derek asked. “Your mark.”

‘No’ was on the tip of Stiles’ tongue, but he stopped it from coming. He’d seen Derek’s back, he knew that they matched. This wasn’t highschool and it wasn’t a curious stranger, not really. He stripped off his plaid overshirt and tugged at the collar of his T-shirt for Derek to look.

It was the first time Stiles saw Derek smile. It lit up his whole face as he looked at the mark on Stiles’ skin, and made the room brighter.

“Thanks,” Derek said. Then he was gone.

***

“Do they think we're animals?” Talia paced the living room floor with the whole pack gathered around her as she seethed. “They’re the ones who decided to kidnap a boy and drag him into the forest, not us.”

“We’ve never gone to the school,” Laura said. “Why would we go now?”

“We’ve found our mates just fine without their interference,” Derek’s older brother Ryan said.

“They were so desperate to keep us out that they kidnapped and drugged someone?” Derek’s cousin George looked stunned. “Unbelievable.”

“Well, it’s not up to them is it?” Talia said. “We’ve avoided leaving the Preserve as a courtesy. We’re under no obligation to stay on our land.”

“What would we want to go into town for anyway?” 10 year old Alexis asked.

“Plenty,” Talia said, and Derek shrank away from the gleam in her eyes. “Peter. Get the card.”

The pack whispered in anticipation as Uncle Peter went into the office and returned with a black credit card. “What are you going to do with that?” Cora asked.

“Whatever we want,” Talia said. “We’ve more than enough to have some fun thanks to the investments we’ve made. Derek?”

Derek silently swore. “Yes, Mom?”

“You are going to take your mate out on a date,” his mother said. “He had a horrible experience for your first meeting, so you should take him somewhere nice so he can get to know you.” She addressed the pack at large. “I want all of you to think about places you can go and things you can do around town.”

“I’d like to take my wife dancing,” Peter said, tugging Maria up into his arms from her perch on the arm of the couch.

“There’s probably a toy store in town,” Derek’s younger sister suggested. “Or an arcade.”

“I’d go there with you, Lilah,” George said.

More ideas were put forth as pack members decided where they’d like to go to make their presence known.

“You should go ask your mate,” Laura said, nudging Derek’s side.

“I’m not calling him right now with everyone in the room,” Derek argued.

Laura snickered. “What like calling him when we’re not in the room would be that much more private?”

“It would be if you could mind your own business,” Derek growled.

Jared tugged Laura’s ponytail. “Don’t worry, Derek, I’ll distract her.”

Derek waited until the next morning when most of the pack was too busy to notice to call Stiles. The call went to voicemail, so Derek left a message asking if Stiles would be up for going out the next day.

He’d tried to keep an ear out for the phone, but he had work to do, so he went out to the workshop instead of parking his butt next to the phone.

Alexis came out to find him before lunch. “Stiles called, and he said that you need a phone.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but he made a mental note to ask his mother about that. He didn’t really think he needed one, but it might make it easier to get to know Stiles, and it was one more place they could go to.

“He also said tomorrow would be fine,” Alexis said, then skipped out of the workshop, leaving Derek’s heart pounding in his chest.

***

Stiles thumped down the stairs as soon as he saw Derek’s car pull up. He’d been staring out his window for the last ten minutes, even though Derek was early. He nearly fell over putting his shoes on when there was a knock at the door.

“See, if you had a phone you could have texted me that you were here,” Stiles said as soon as he opened the door, keys in hand.

Derek frowned at him. “Why would I do that?”

“So you wouldn’t have to get out of your car,” Stiles said.

“Okay,” Derek said, but Stiles could tell he didn’t really get it. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, for sure.” Stiles stepped out and looked up at the house behind him. Derek escorted him to the car and even opened the door for him. “Wow, are you one of those old fashioned “gentlemanly” guys?”

“I haven’t decided,” Derek said, abandoning him to get into the seat and shut the door himself.

“Hi!”

“Shit!” Stiles smacked his hand off the roof of the car before spinning around clutching his chest.

The blonde in the back seat grinned devilishly at him, and the black boy beside her had a small smirk.

Derek threw a pack of gum at her face. “Stop it.”

“All I said was_ hi,_” she said, pouting.

“Yeah,” Derek said, buckling up. “Stop.”

“I don’t--”

“I could just drive you home,” Derek interjected. “I really don’t mind.”

“No!” She smiled at Stiles, far less viciously. “We’re going to see a movie.”

“What movie?” Stiles asked. He hoped he hadn’t seen in already.

“I haven’t decided because I want to see so many, but I have priorities, you know? So I was wondering how long do you think you and Derek will take to have dinner? Would we have time for two?” She was leaning so far forward she was nearly in the front seat.

“Two?” Stiles echoed, then looked to Derek. “Are we seeing a movie?”

“Not with them we’re not,” Derek said.

“Rude,” she interjected.

“But we could if you want to,” Derek continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I thought we could go to dinner though.”

“Dinner would be nice,” Stiles said. He’d been looking forward to the chance to really talk to Derek and get to know him. Movies were fun, but chatting through them was highly discouraged.

Derek flashed him a small smile. “Go to two, Erica, I don’t mind waiting.”

“Yes!” Erica danced in her seat.

“Erica,” Stiles echoed. He looked closely at the girl. “I know you.”

“You should,” she told him. “We were in the same class for at least five years.”

“Erica Reyes. We did go to school together. Then we...didn't.” Stiles didn’t remember the reason she’d left or even really that she had.

Erica shrugged. “After receiving the bite, I elected to homeschool so I spend more time with my pack.”

“You were given the bite,” Stiles said carefully.

“I asked for it,” Erica said, and Stiles could hear the sharp edge in her voice.

The only werewolf Stiles had ever actually met was Derek, so he’d obviously never met someone who’d been bitten later in life. In the research he’d done, most discussions of the bite were set in terms of vicious attacks and life altering despair. Erica clearly didn’t follow that line of thought, so Stiles opted for honesty. “I don’t know very much about werewolves, or what taking the bite reallymeans in terms of impacting your life.”

“There are obvious benefits,” Erica told him. “Strength and agility being two of the main draws. I wanted it for the healing. Things modern medicine can’t quite keep under control are completely healed with the bite. However, you become a social outcast. When people aren’t trying to attack you they’re claiming you attacked them.”

“I see,” Stiles said. “And so the pros obviously outweighed the cons for you.”

“After that video was posted online I was a social pariah anyway,” Erica brushed off her blood red nail on her shirt. “It was more of a choice between being alone with seizures or without. I chose without. I hadn’t really factored in the pack. After I took the bite, I had people who cared about me. My safety and happiness matter in a way they_ never_ did when I was human.”

“I’m glad,” Stiles said, honestly pleased that such an important decision had worked out for her. “And you would be?” He asked the silent man with her.

“This is my mate Boyd,” Erica told him. “He followed me to the Hale pack.”

“So you were bitten as well?” Stiles clarified. “Or were you from a different pack?”

“Bitten,” Boyd said. “Wasn’t sick or anything though. Just felt right.”

“Gotcha,” Stiles said facing forward in his seat properly. He thought for a moment, then asked Derek, “Am I expected to…?

“Only if you want,” Derek said quickly. “It doesn’t change anything, we're soulmates either way.”

“Would you be happier if I was a werewolf too?” Stiles didn’t know if he actually cared yet, but he wanted to know.

Derek took a moment to think. “I don’t know. There are a lot of things that we do as a pack, but there are humans in my family already. Sometimes I worry that they’ll feel left out. I wouldn’t want you to think you’re less pack because you’re human.”

“Huh.” Stiles filed that away for further consideration. “Well, I’m not going to decide now either way.”

“Good,” Derek said. “There’s no time limit to say yes, but it’s not reversible, so you should be sure if you do ask.” He swung into a parking space in front of the theatre. “You have the money Peter gave you?”

“Yes, get out!” Erica pushed at his seat as Derek slowly got out and tipped it forward. “Have fun, bu-bye!”

Stiles gave a half hearted wave while they disappeared into the theatre. “So, where are we going?”

“I thought we could try Fellagio,” Derek said, merging back into traffic.

“Sounds great,” Stiles said. It was a popular place in town, nice enough for special events but not so fancy he’d feel awkward in his jeans.

The drive was short, and Derek led him inside. As they approached the hostess, a light from the bar flashed, and Derek’s eyes flared blue in response. Her sunny smile turned tight.

“I’m so sorry, but we’re completely full tonight,” she said, tucking the menus she’d been stacking back into place.

Stiles looked around and started counting empty tables.

“I made a reservation,” Derek said. “They said over the phone it should be no problem.” 

“Oh,” the hostess said. “I see. What’s the name under?”

“ D. H.” Derek said. “I can give you the phone number if you’d like.”

The hostess grabbed her menus and said, “Right this way.” She stepped behind them so that Derek had to walk first. Stiles had never seen waitstaff walk behind the customer, and it felt unnatural since they didn’t know where they were going.

“Your server will be right with you,” she said, and disappeared as soon as the menus were on the table.

“Not likely,” Derek muttered.

“Was that--” Stiles started. Derek raised an eyebrow encouraging him to continue. “I get the distinct impression that they didn’t want us here.”

“Yeah.” Derek said. “They probably wouldn’t have booked the reservation if I had left “Hale” as the name.”

“It’s not like they’re that busy.” All of the tables around them were empty. It looked like no one had been seated in this section at all. “Are they really that reluctant because of…”

Derek shrugged. “They’re scared.”

“Why don’t we go somewhere else?” Stiles asked. “I mean do we really want to give business to a place that’s so obviously anti-werewolf?”

“There’s nowhere in this town that wouldn’t have at least one staff member react the same way,” Derek said. “But we’re here to prove them wrong, and remind them that they don’t get to decide where we can and cannot go.”

“Alright,” Stiles said. He wasn’t sure he agreed but he didn’t have a lot of experience with discrimination, barring the last couple weeks, so he decided to follow Derek’s lead. He thought a bit about the places in town that he frequented. Would his favourite diner try to turn his soulmate away? Did the gas station on Clark Street turn down business on some messed up principle?

“It’s okay though,” Derek said, trying to smile reassuring him. “I still get to spend time with you so…”

“Right, yeah, that’s… good,” Stiles said, brushing aside his discomfort. “We can talk and stuff. Get to know each other.”

Derek looked a little relieved. “Exactly. You’re in school, right?”

It took twenty minutes for a waitress to bring them water, and she scurried away before they could place an order. It was undeniably awkward, but Stiles had practice talking through awkward situations. He turned around in his chair to look back to where she’d gone and found a group of servers huddled together. “What are they doing?”

“They’re fighting over who has to take our order,” Derek said. “This section was supposed to be closed tonight, so it’s technically no one's area.”

Stiles looked at him, surprised. “You can hear them from here?”

“Easily,” Derek said, with a shrug. “You get used to it.”

Stiles looked back at the huddling group of wait staff. They saw him looking and scattered. It was another 10 minutes before a very young waiter came to take their order. He was shaking so hard he could barely write, and he dropped his pen three times.

After the final drop, Derek reached down and picked it up for him. The boy stared at the pen like it was a gun, squeaked, and sprinted away.

Stiles burst out laughing. “Oh my god, did he think you would bite him if he reached for the pen?”

“Probably,” Derek said with a snort. “Poor kid probably never met a werewolf in his life.”

“Good thing you didn’t order steak,” Stiles said. “I think he might have fainted if he had to ask you how you like your meat cooked.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but his mouth quirked in a half smile.

Stiles was fairly confident at this point that they’d be waiting at least an hour for their food and he didn’t expect the restaurant staff to come near them in the meantime. He was incredibly surprised when Derek looked over and sighed. Stiles turned around and saw the hostess pointing out their table to his father.

The Sheriff looked incredibly frustrated as he walked across the restaurant. He removed his hat as he walked over and pushed a hand through his hair. Stiles winced because he recognized it as a gesture of his dad being pissed.

“Dad?” he said, as soon as he was within earshot. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m just fine,” he said. “I’ve just spent the whole night going from one wild goose chase to another while my deputies race around town trying to keep up with all the calls of vicious attacks we’ve had tonight.”

“Attacks?” Derek echoed flatly.

“Yes,” The Sheriff said. “I’ve had reports of “Werewolf attacks” all over town. Now tell me, boys, have either of you attacked anyone tonight?”

“No, of course not,” Stiles said.

“No, sir,” Derek said, much more sincerely.

“Have you by chance witnessed an attack in this restaurant?” The Sheriff asked.

“Jesus, Dad, no,” Stiles said.

“No, sir,” Derek said again.

The Sheriff nodded writing in his notebook, very seriously. “And have you by chance done anything that could be perceived as threatening.”

Derek sighed. “I’m not a very good judge, sir.”

Stiles snorted. “Derek tried to hand our waiter his pen back.”

“His pen,” the Sheriff said, expression completely unimpressed.

“Yep,” Stiles said. “After he dropped it. He looked so scared I thought he might pee himself.”

The Sheriff coughed, and Stiles was impressed at how effectively he managed to cover his laugh. “Well in that case, it seems I’ve had yet another false report called in.”

“I suspect you’ll be getting a lot of those in the near future,” Derek said cryptically.

“Well,” The Sheriff raised his voice so it carried through the restaurant, “The next person who wastes the county’s time with a false accusation like this will be facing a fine. I can’t have deputies distracted from people who are in real danger because someone…”

“Called wolf?” Stiles offered with a grin.

“Exactly,” the Sheriff said, squeezing his shoulder fondly. “You boys have a good night.” He tipped his hat to Derek who gave him a stiff, “Sir”, and returned to the hostess.

“He’s telling her about the fine too, right?” Stiles asked Derek.

“Yep,” Derek said. “Loud enough for the other patrons to hear.” Derek sighed. “That's not how I wanted to be reintroduced to your dad.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” Stiles insisted. “He’s a bit stressed at the moment, that’s all. If he wasn’t so busy, he’d have stopped to chat.”

“He’s a good man,” Derek said. “It just would have been helpful to get one of his deputies instead.”

“It’d be better if they didn’t come at all.” Stiles looked back at the hostess who was pointedly ignoring them.

“Fat chance of that,” Derek said.

Stiles remembered what his dad had said about getting calls every time the Hales came into town. “I hope they didn’t interrupt Erica’s movie.”

Derek gave a half laugh. “She had half a mind to call them herself, just so she wouldn't miss anything.”

It was meant to be funny, but Stiles just felt sad. “She was that sure they’d come?”

“Yeah,” Derek said. “We were sure.”

“Dad said there were a lot of calls,” Stiles pointed out. “Do you think they were all here and at the theatre?”

Derek shook his head. “Over half the pack is out tonight.”

“Is that...normal?” Stiles asked.

“No,” Derek said. When he didn’t elaborate Stiles nudged him under the table with his foot. “It’s because of you.”

“Me?” Stiles echoed.

“We aren’t just going to let what happened to you go,” Derek said. “Those people wanted us to stay in the woods so badly they drugged and kidnapped you. It’s not up to them where we do or do not go. We won’t be forced to hide in the woods for their comfort.”

Stiles smiled. “They did it to keep you away, and it did the exact opposite?”

Derek smirked back at him. “Pretty much. We were happy not to deal with them, but clearly they need a reminder that we can go where we please.” He looked at the kitchen again. “Could make for a long night though.”

“We’ve got lots of time.” Stiles winked. “Erica hasn’t even started her second movie.”

***

“Guh!” Stiles tumbled out of his bed and onto the floor. _What the hell is that annoying sound? _The shrill echo made it sound like he was about to be abducted by aliens. 

His brain finally came online enough to realize his phone was aglow and that horrible noise was his ringtone. He scrambled off the floor and hit _answer _then dropped the phone. “Shit,” he said, patting under his bed to retrieve it. “Hello?”

“...Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Stiles said, clearing the sleep grog from his throat. “What’s up, Derek?”

“I was wondering if you were free today,” Derek said with gruff hesitance. 

“Yep,” Stiles said. “What time?”

“You don’t even know what for yet.”

“Yeah, but I assume you’re about to tell me, and as I am a brand new social outcast, my schedule is wide open.” Stiles could practically feel Derek frowning over the phone. “I didn’t mean that. My best friend works on Saturdays and I’m pretty sure my dad’s pulling a double. So, as my day is unfilled, I would like very much to spend it with you. Which is what I figured you were implying when you asked if I was busy.”

“Yes, I was hoping you’d spend it with me,” Derek said. “My alpha decided we’ll be getting some cell phones, and I was wondering if you wanted to help pick them out.”

“Hell yes!” Stiles said, jumping off the floor and rushing to raid his closet. “I am so there. No more awkward landline?”

“The landline isn’t going anywhere,” Derek said and sighed while Stiles made a rude noise. “But given the current situation, everyone's agreed that I’ll have a phone of my own, and we’ll be getting a couple to share.”

“How’s that going to work?” Stiles through a clean shirt on his bed.

“We always travel in groups. Each group takes a phone, then gives it back when they’re done.” Derek was interrupted by someone shouting at him. “Peter wants to leave soon. How quickly do you think you’ll be ready?”

“Give me half an hour to shower and eat something?” Stiles said, adding an over shirt and some jeans to the T.

“You haven’t eaten?” 

If Stiles was going by Derek level of distress, he’d have thought he hadn’t eaten in a week, instead of last night. “No, not yet.”

“It’s already 10:30,” Derek said, as if that explained _anything at all_.

“Yeah, and I just woke up,” Stiles said. “So I’m going to shower and eat, and then I’ll be ready for the day.”

Further shouting filled the background of the call, this time with Derek responding with things like, “Yeah, that’s what he said. I know. I don’t understand how-- No, yeah, that will be better.”

“Derek, I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Don’t worry about eating, I’ll take care of it, alright? See you soon.” Derek hung up before Stiles could protest.

“Whatever, free food,” Stiles muttered as he headed for the shower.

Without having to worry about breakfast, Stiles had time to shower, dress, medicate, and freak out before Derek knocked on the door. 

“Why such nice cars if you never take them anywhere?” Stiles asked gesturing to the Mercedes in front of his house.

“My brother’s a mechanic.” Derek shrugged. “Do you want to eat here or in the car?”

“I’m allowed to eat in the car?” Stiles said, envisioning priceless upholstery as he locked his front door.

“Sure,” Derek said, and hopped down the porch steps, leaving Stiles to rush after him. He held open the door so Stiles could slide into the back seat ahead of him.

“No, he doesn't.”

“Yes, he does.” 

The occupants of the front seat completely ignored them in favour of arguing with each other.

“Here,” Derek handed Stiles a square tupperware followed by a fork. “This is breakfast casserole. When you’re done with it I have fruit salad. I didn’t know what kind of juice you like, so I brought orange, apple, and the gross stuff my aunt likes.”

“Wheatgrass, Derek,” said the man in the front seat.

“Disgusting, Peter,” Derek replied.

“Orange is fine,” Stiles said.

The woman in the passenger seat swiveled around and smiled brightly. “Hi, I’m Laura.”

“Oh.” Stiles failed at hiding his discomfort.

Peter cackled. “I told you. Your first impression has stuck hard, my dear.”

“Shut up,” Laura said, swatting his shoulder as he started the car. “Stiles, you’re not still upset about that phone call, right? It was totally a misunderstanding.”

“Right,” Stiles said flatly, sending Peter into another fit of laughter.

“She didn’t mean to upset you.” Derek looked anxiously between Stiles and his sister.

“Sure, totally,” Stiles said, and shoved some food in his mouth.

“I didn’t!” Laura insisted. “It was just funny because everyone in my family looks so alike, and we all have pretty similar soulmarks.”

Unfortunately, Stiles finished his bite too quickly to keep his mouth shut. “Obviously. It’s not like you didn’t know who was calling, though. You didn’t need to be such a jerk about it.”

Laura blinked at him, turned to sit properly in her seat. After a moment she turned back again. “I wasn’t that--”

“You were,” Derek said.

Peter followed with, “And you are. But we’re very fond of you anyway.”

“I’m not a _jerk_,” Laura said with righteous indignation. “And I’m going to prove it to you. Uncle Peter, stop laughing.”

Stiles shrugged. “This is really good,” he said gesturing to the food with his fork. 

“I have more,” Derek said. 

“How much food do you think I can eat?” Stiles said.

“Not as much as I can, but more than a mouse.” Derek smirked. “Fruit?”

Stiles managed to only drop one piece of melon on the seat, and he was pretty sure Peter didn't notice. Beacon Hills had one sad excuse for a mall, and one of the stores it hosted was where everyone went for phones. As they walked inside, Stiles noticed a light flash, and the three werewolves he was with flashed back at it, Derek and Peter in blue, and Laura a fiery orange. 

“What was that?” Stiles asked. “It happened at the restaurant too.”

“Stupid device that people started putting in a few years ago for _security_,” Peter said, voice dripping with disdain. “That light goes off almost every store you go to, but I bet you didn’t notice it.”

“Not really,” Stiles admitted. He’d seen the blinking light behind counters, but never thought more of them than he did the lights on security cameras.

A sunny girl with a name tag proclaiming “TRACY” was already helping a customer, but she greeted them with a smile. Her counterpart “TREVOR” didn’t look busy, but he avoided eye contact and started shuffling papers around.

“Let’s take a look at what’s on offer, shall we?” Peter said, pointing them to the wall of phone models.

Derek pointed to a flip phone with black and yellow rubber. “This looks--”

“No,” Stiles said. “You can’t text on a flip phone.”

“How about something from this century, Derek?” Peter teased. “I’m very fond of my iPhone, why don’t you try that?”

“What would I need all that for?” Derek asked. “I just need to talk on it.”

“And text,” Stiles said. “Let’s find you something with a nice keyboard.”

They debated between the different models. Peter was firmly in the Apple cult and wouldn’t let them forget it, but he helped look at the tech specs in between digs at the other brands.

“We don’t have to settle on one kind,” Laura pointed out. “We plan on getting a few.”

Laura and Peter picked out what they wanted for the pack, and Stiles narrowed Derek’s choices down to two when Tracy finished her transaction. “Sorry for the wait,” she said, with an eye roll toward where Trevor was practically hiding under the counter. “Anything I can help you with?”

Peter had clearly done his research. He knew exactly what plan they wanted, and now that they’d decided on phones, he pointed those out too. He went to the counter to start the process with Tracy while Stiles and Derek stared at the wall of cellphones.

“I don’t know what to choose,” Derek said.

“Do you like the look of one better?” Stiles asked. They were equally good phones so there was no obvious choice. “We can get you a case for either.”

Derek shrugged. “This one is bigger. Which is nice for the keyboard, but it might not fit in my pocket as well.”

Stiles had a strange flash of Derek’s ass in pants even tighter than what he was wearing now, and it made him giggly and nauseous at the same time.

“Stiles?” Derek said, frowning at him.

He was saved from having to answer by Deputy Parrish walking in. Parrish looked at Stiles and sighed. He was shaking his head as he walked up to the counter.

Trevor was more than happy to abandon his paperwork to talk to the kind young deputy.

Derek sighed. “You pick, okay? I’m sure they’re both fine.”

Stiles chose the phone that was most similar to his own so he’d be able to help Derek with the settings. He told Peter, and then they looked at cases while they waited for him to finish.

“Are you kidding!?” Trevor shouted. “I don’t have that kind of money!”

“Well, then perhaps you should think carefully before calling in the sheriff’s department when no emergency or theft is happening.” Deputy Parrish said cooly. He finished writing the ticket and handed it to Trevor. “We have more than enough to do without being called out because people are biased. You have a nice day now.” He tipped his hat to the group watching him and left the store.

Trevor spun toward them, red in the face and fuming.

Peter smiled at him. “Well, gee, I had no idea this establishment was so xenophobic. Perhaps I should cancel this order and go elsewhere. Call corporate at least.”

“No,” Tracy said quickly, and considering the amount she’d be getting on commision, Stiles could understand why. “I assure you, we’ll pursue this with management. We welcome people from all walks of life.”

Trevor started to open his big stupid mouth, and Sunny Tracy hissed, “Trevor, go wait in the back.”

Peter waved at him as he left. “Oh, Stiles, grab an extra charger or two. I’m sure they’ll come in handy.”

“How about a car charger?” Stiles asked.

“Excellent idea,” Peter said. “Derek, why don’t you get one of those arm bands? It will make it easier to keep the phone with you in the woods.”

“Would you be interested in our extended warranty?” Tracy asked brightly.

“I most certainly would,” Peter drawled.

***

With phones in hand, Peter took them to the other side of the mall for frozen yogurt. Stiles dug into his peanut butter mountain, and scoffed at Laura’s plain strawberry. “I have a question.”

“By all means,” Peter said.

“Why spend so much money at a place that has a clearly bigoted employee? I know Derek said it’s important to prove them wrong, but there are other phone companies. In fact, you could make the whole purchase online.”

“I could, and I have been for many years,” Peter agreed. “But at this moment, we are working on our image. Trevor is a bigoted prick, but Tracy will go home and tell all her friends about how much she made on commision today. She might even put notes on our file that we’re agreeable to additions, warranties, and are not very budget conscious. That makes us valuable customers. It makes Trevor’s bias seem unreasonable.”

“So it makes him look bad,” Stiles said. “And paints you in a better light.”

“Exactly,” Peter said. “It isn’t enough anymore that we protect this town from creatures far worse than us. We need to remind them all that we are members of this community that they are fortunate to have. You understand?”

“I think so,” Stiles said. “Hey, do you know any good websites that give information on werewolves and packs? Most of what I’ve read is unsourced or clearly biased.”

Peter’s eyes twinkled. “You’ve been researching?”

“Of course,” Stiles scoffed. Wouldn’t anyone? “On and off since Gerard asked about my soulmark.”

“Why not just come out and see us?” Laura asked.

“Did you hear the part about the biased websites?” Stiles said and she rolled her eyes.

“Alright, but what’s stopping you now? You should spend the day with us,” she declared.

“I am spending the day with you.” Stiles held up his cup. “We just got Froyo.”

Peter cackled as Laura huffed. “You know what I mean.”

Derek nudged him. “Would you like to come out and meet the pack? They’d really love to meet you.”

“Sure.” It would be nice to put faces to names. “I should probably check in with my dad first.”

Stiles fell behind as they walked back to the car, pulling out his phone to dial his dad.

“Is everything alright?” The sheriff said in lieu of hello.

“Are you gonna answer every call like that now? No, ‘Hi, son,’ or ‘Good morning’?”

The Sheriff sighed. “You don’t usually call when I’m at work. You just burst in.”

Stiles wasn’t sure if he should be offended by that less than flattering description of his visits. It was somewhat accurate. “Well, I have other engagements, but I could swing by with a spinach salad…”

“No, that’s fine,” he said quickly. “What other engagements, isn’t Scott at work?”

“I have other friends besides Scott,” Stiles argued.

There was a long silence over the phone. “I wasn’t sure any other_ friends _were speaking to you right now.”

Stiles winced. Derek glanced back at him with a frown, so Stiles quickly changed his expression and waved. Then he felt like a dork for it. “Well, actually, I’m hanging out with Derek and some of his family right now.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep. And I’ve been invited to meet_ more _of his family at their house now,” Stiles said, and tried to sound cheerful but firm. “So, I’ll be going out there for a few hours.”

“Out in the woods?” Stiles could hear his dad calculating the statistics for his murder.

“Gee, I don’t know, Dad, do they have another house that’s not surrounded by trees? Maybe something nice and close to their neighbors so they can borrow sugar and have Barbeques together?”

Peter laughed so hard he had to lean against the car. Laura looked at him like he was an alien. Derek looked concerned.

“No need to get smart,” his dad said. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “I want to go.”

“Okay then,” he said with a sigh. “Keep me posted.”

“Will do,” Stile said. “Oh, I’ll text you Derek’s new number too. In case I get murdered. Bye, dad!” He hit “end call” as fast as he could.

Derek gaped at him with eyes wide. “Why would you tell him that?”

“Your phone number?”

“‘In case you get_ murdered_.”

“Just to keep him on his toes.” Stiles bopped Derek’s nose and laughed as he went cross eyed. “You’ll get used to it.”

***

According to Derek, Stiles had been to the Hale house before, but considering he’d been drugged/nearly unconscious at the time, Stiles decided it didn’t really count. The house was beautifully distracting, and Stiles couldn’t give it his full attention because he was being introduced to so many Hales. Far too many, in fact. Derek had an absurd amount of cousins. It was becoming unclear how many siblings he had, because Stiles couldn’t keep which kids belonged to what parents straight.

“It’s not really important,” Derek said. “I mean you’ll figure it out but we were all raised together, so individual families don’t feel so important. It’s like having 5 moms.”

After so many years being just him and his father, Stiles couldn’t imagine being so closely tied to so many people. At the same time, Melissa had been a second mother to him even before his own had died, so he understood that sometimes blood and the traditional family structure weren’t as important as true family.

“Here, have a baby,” Derek’s cousin (sister?) Claire said, and a toddler was thrust into Stiles’ arms.

“Uh.” Stiles stared at the dark haired infant with panic growing. The small child’s grew wide and tears began to form. 

Derek rescued him by quickly taking the kid himself, but not without laughing at him. “It’s just a toddler.”

“It’s breakable,” Stiles insisted. “I don’t want to be the person that broke one of the babies.”

Derek snorted. “He’s fine.” They took the kid to the living room and Derek set him down to play with the other kids that had gathered there.

Most of the kids were roughhousing on the floor, but another one was lying on the couch reading. Derek wiggled the boy’s toe. “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah, just tired.” He wiggled his nose, bumping his glasses higher. “Being sick is boring.”

“I bet,” Derek said. “Stiles, this is my little brother Casper.”

“Hey,” Stiles said, with an awkward wave. He was a bit confused. From what he’d heard, werewolves never got sick, and they really didn’t need things like glasses. Stiles considered asking but he didn’t want to appear rude or ignorant, so instead he asked about the book Casper was reading.

While they were talking, one of the other children hurled herself at Derek. Derek caught her easily, but then she wiggled around and dropped onto Casper.

“Ow!” Casper sat up quickly, holding out his arm so the pinpricks of blood didn’t get on his book.

“Stella!” Derek grabbed the girl and pulled her off. “You have to be more careful! Casper can’t just heal that. Look he’s still bleeding.”

The young girl stared wide eyed at the blood on Casper’s arm. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” Derek said gently. “But you have to watch your claws. You always have to remember what they could do. If you scratch someone, even if it’s another wolf, it will still hurt. But pack members like Casper, Aunt Alice, and Stiles we especially have to take care.”

“I’m sorry, Casper,” she said.

“It’s okay,” Casper said, giving her a light pat on the shoulder. “But I should go wash off my arm now.”

“Come on to the kitchen,” Derek said, relinquishing his hold on the girl to herd his brother from the room, Stiles following close behind.

“We’re nowhere near dinner,” Talia said, barely glancing at them. Then her head shot up and she turned. “I smell blood.”

“I’m fine,” Casper said, quickly. “It’s just a scratch.”

“It_ is _a scratch this time,” Derek said, bringing his brother to the sink. “One of the littles just got too excited. She’s not likely to do it again soon.”

Stiles had met Talia as soon as they’d arrived, and he found her more than a little intimidating. She had a brisk, commanding demeanor that was at odds with the way she smoothed the hair on Casper’s head. “I’m sorry you got hurt, Casper, but it’s an important lesson for her.”

“I know,” Casper said. “I’m fine, really.”

Talia’s attention shifted suddenly enough to Stiles to make him jump. “Casper is my only human child, but he’s not the only human in our pack.”

“Oh.” Stiles’ suspicions were confirmed, but that caused more new questions than it answered. “So, not everyone is a werewolf, and not everyone takes the bite.”

“That’s right,” Talia said. “When Casper is older, we’ll talk about the bite more fully, but I think it’s important that he understand who he is fully as a human first. I think it’s important for our pack too, to be reminded of our own humanity by having him close.”

Stiles nodded considering. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Casper in town.” He looked to be about 12 years old, and the Beacon Hills’ High School and Grade School were close enough that Stiles was sure he should have seen him around.

“Why would I want to go there?” Casper said disdainfully.

Talia gave him a considering looking, but didn’t reply, so Stiles answered. “Lot’s of reasons. Friends to visit, places to go, things to learn. I mean the library alone would be an incentive for me.”

Casper looked at him skeptically but at the mention of the library his interest grew. “A library might be nice,” Casper said, then shook his head. “I can get all the books I want online.”

“That’s nice,” Stiles said. “E-reader’s are cool, but I like the feel of a physical book sometimes. And I like looking at all of the town history that’s there. That’s harder to find online.”

“I guess,” Casper said, with a shrug. “That would be cool.”

“Perhaps Stiles would take you sometime,” Talia said, smiling warmly at them.

“Sure,” Stiles said. “Anytime.”

“The bleeding has stopped,” Derek told them, wiping Casper’s arm with a towel. “Do you want a bandage?”

“No, I’ll just be careful with it,” Casper said. Derek started to argue, but Casper rolled his eyes, “It’s not that big Derek, I’ll be fine.” He twisted out of his brother’s grip and left them in the dust.

“Derek, while you’re here, I was considering a salad for dinner,” Talia said.

“What are we having?” Derek asked.

“Pulled pork, biscuits, and potatoes,” said Derek’s aunt. (Stiles thought her name was Rory, but he wasn’t confident enough to say it out loud.)

“I’ve got some cabbage ready, I’ll see what else I can find,” Derek offered. He raised an eyebrow at Stiles. “Want to see my greenhouse?”

Stiles opened his mouth to make some kind of dirty joke, then remembered his soulmate’s mother was standing right there. “Sure.” Derek had mentioned that the greenhouse on their property was his main responsibility, so Stiles was happy to check it out. 

Derek held his hand across the lawn, and Stiles was surprised at how nice that felt. It had always seemed silly to him, to hold hands like children in danger of getting lost. He’d always worried that if someone held his hand his palm would get too sweaty and gross, or he’d forget they were connected and gesture and hit them in the face. None of that happened with Derek, it was just nice. A reassurance that Derek was there and wanted to be connected to him.

The greenhouse was much larger than Stiles was expecting. He’d pictured a little backyard shed with some shelves, maybe a few hanging plants. Instead, the place was massive. Easily the size of a lacrosse field and filled with flourishing plants and work tables. It would have been easy to get lost looking at everything, but Derek knew exactly where to go. 

They grabbed one of the baskets stacked by the door, and Derek pointed out some of the things he grew. The tomatoes, were clearly his favourite, because he stopped and admired some of the green growing globes, touching them gently before continuing on to find samples of their ripened brethren.

“What do you do with all of this stuff? You can’t possibly eat it all.” Stiles nearly ran into a tomato vine because he was looking around instead of in front of himself.

“We can a lot of it. We use what we eat ourselves and trade the rest with other packs. We trade the fresh stuff too, but that’s a little harder to transport than the jars.” Derek grinned back at him. “Next time you come over we’ll have pasta. We make our own sauce and all the vegetables in it come from here.”

“You mean the tomatoes?” Stiles asked. He bought his spaghetti sauce in a can marked “low sodium.” How many vegetables could there be?

Derek snorted. “Not just tomatoes. We put all sorts in there.” He passed the basket to Stiles to go after a particularly high tomato. “You could bring your dad. Sneak in a few servings of vitamins.”

Stiles had mentioned to Derek on their first date how concerned he was with his father’s health, and how he was constantly trying to get some_ good _food into him. He was pleased that Derek had remembered. “Your family wouldn’t mind?”

“They’d love it.” Derek added his prize to the basket. “One of our favourite things about finding a soulmate is the additions that come to the pack. Not just you, but your family too.”

“My dad,” Stiles said since that was the only family he had left.

“Well, yeah, but also the rest of your pack,” Derek said with a shrug.

Stiles smiled at him, bemused. “Derek, humans don’t have packs.”

Derek scoffed. “Sure they do. They don’t call it that, and they can’t_ feel _it in the same way that we can but they still have them. Yours is your dad, obviously, and Scott and his mom I think. Maybe others? You’ve only mentioned them though.”

Stiles hadn’t ever really thought of it that way, but it rang true. Scott and Melissa were family, he’d just never really had the words to explain how.

“They could come too,” Derek said. “To dinner I mean. If they wanted.”

“I’ll ask,” Stiles said, pleased with the idea. “I think they’d like that. Melissa will make a big fuss and Scott might as well get to hang out with you guys if he’s gonna be punished for it anyway.” Stiles bumped into Derek’s back when he stopped abruptly.

“What does that mean?” Derek looked back at Stiles with narrowed eyes.

Stiles shrugged awkwardly. “Well, very few people are talking to me at school still, except Scott, so some people are kinda not talking to him by association. His soulmate, Allison, I mentioned her, right?”

Derek gave a quick nod. “Yeah, you said they're both disgustingly cute with each other, but they’re so nice about it you can’t be mad.” 

“Truth,” Stiles pledged. “Anyway, she’s an Argent--”

“What?” Derek snarled, and Stiles caught a hint of fang.

“Yeah, I kinda got that they’re not too keen on you guys, unsurprised that the feeling is mutual,” Stiles said, with an awkward shrug. “Allison’s not buying it though. I mean, I think her dad decided he wanted her to form her own opinions or something and kept her away from the rest of the family for awhile. She was suspicious at first, but when I got drugged and sent here and you didn’t hurt me, that was it. She decided that you can tell a monster by what they do, not by the species.”

“Sounds smart,” Derek said. “Especially since her aun_t is _a monster.”

“What?” Stiles said. He’d expect Derek to say things like that about Gerard, but he’d never heard about Allison’s aunt.

Derek sighed. “I don’t really want to ruin today by going into it, but… She tried to burn our house down, and she tried to use me to do it. She kinda made me think you didn’t exist.”

Stiles blinked at the overload of mind-blowing info. “Okay, what?”

Derek went to lean against one of the work tables, huffing and crossing his arms. “She came to the woods when I was about 16. I was out with Laura, and we’d been shifted so I didn’t have a shirt on. She saw my soulmark, and said she just had to tell me she’d seen it before, and my mate was dead. I don’t know how she made it so I couldn’t hear a lie, but she was detailed, telling me all about this girl and a car accident. Obviously, I was upset, and I had no reason not to believe her. She was very sympathetic and led me down a merry trail to destruction.”

“Dead?” Stiles echoed. “No, ours match, we know they do.”

“Yes, they do,” Derek said, reaching out to lay a hand over Stiles’ chest where his mark rested under his shirt. “She was lying, but I didn’t know that at the time. Of course, my pack noticed that I was upset, and they’re incredibly nosy, so it didn’t take long for them to find out about it. Peter was suspicious -- you get used to that, Peter is paranoid as fuck-- so Mom let him investigate and sure enough, Kate’s an Argent, guaranteed to be looking for a way to fuck with us. We were trying to figure out how to deal with her lying when she tired to burn the house down. She didn’t factor in the human pack members though. We all got out with minimal injuries.”

“I’m glad you’re all okay, but that sucks,” Stiles said, feeling like the words were woefully inadequate for the events.

“Yep,” Derek said. “Everyone told me she was lying, but it was so hard to be sure. I tried to put it out of my mind, but it would creep up sometimes.” Derek smiled, and tugged Stiles closer. “So, I was very relieved when I caught your scent in the woods that day.”

“Yeah?” There was a flirtatious note to Derek’s voice and Stiles found it easy to echo.

“Yeah.” Derek said, and he rubbed his nose against the side of Stiles’ neck. “Relieved, and excited, and so ready to find you.” He nipped lightly at the same path.

Stiles’ fingers were digging into Derek’s shoulders. “Sorry I ruined it.”

Derek’s head came up abruptly and he looked startled. “What? No, Stiles you didn’t ruin anything.”

“I screamed at you,” Stiles pointed out.

“You were drugged,” Derek countered. “I scared you, I got caught up following your scent and I should have noticed sooner but I--” Derek broke off with a growl. “It’s_ their _fault. Not yours. I hate that they took this away from us, meeting your soulmate is supposed to be a special memory, not a past trauma.”

Stiles laughed and Derek shot him a confused glare. “Did I ever tell you how my parents met?” 

“No,” Derek said, suspiciously.

“You know my dad’s the Sheriff, right? Well, he was a deputy then, and he got called out to a bar fight,” Stiles said. “Some guy had tried to drag my mom out back, so she shoved her keys in his eye. She was covered in blood, and freaking out. Dad wasn’t some light in the darkness, he was just one more guy in a sea of people, asking her questions. It wasn’t until after they were at the station and she’d calmed down enough that she’d had a chance to wipe some of the blood off they noticed their soulmarks matched. It was one of the most terrifying nights of her life, and she met her soulmate.”

Derek stared at him for a moment. “She keyed out his eye?”

“Mildly,” Stiles said with a shrug. “He deserved it.”

“Definitely, your mom was badass though,” Derek said. “I mean… Who does that?”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah. Dad tries to say stuff like_ violence is never the answer _and _the judicial system is there for a reason, _but I know he was proud as hell.”

“So, she didn’t mind that their mating story was…. Like that?” Derek asked.

“She minded, I mean, it sucked,” Stiles said. “But she told me lots of other stories too. The first time they went on a date, the day he asked her to move in with him, the time they got kicked out of the mall because she fell into a fountain--”

“What?--”

“I’m not getting into that right now, let’s just say I come by my clumsiness honestly,” Stiles said with a wave of his hand. “The point is, we will make other memories. Better ones.”

Derek lifted Stiles up onto the work table and stepped between his legs. “Memories like this?” He kissed Stiles gently, cupping his face.

“Yeah, just like that,” Stiles said, and pulled him in for another kiss. “So, how long do you think we could sit out here and make out without your family noticing?”

“Less than 30 seconds, but I’m prepared to face their knowing smirks.”

***

Erica traipsed ahead of them into the theatre. “Hurry up, slowpokes,” she called over her shoulder.

Derek sighed. “Are you sure you want to see a movie with her?”

“It’s got great reviews,” Stiles said. He looped his arm with Derek. “It’ll be fun.”

Erica leaned over the ticket counter, cleavage on display, and blood red lipstick contrasting with white teeth. “Hi, Brian, did you miss me?”

The pimply faced teenager gulped. “Welcome to Beacon Cinemas. What movie would you like to see?”

“Hmm, you know I’m not sure,” she said, tapping her pouted lip as she looked at the list of movies offered. “Maybe you can make a recommendation for me.”

“Four to _Retribution _please,” Boyd said, nudging Erica aside and pulling out his wallet.

Brian completed their transaction without the customary “Enjoy your ‘Picture Perfect’ Beacon Cinema experience” that Stiles was used to.

Stiles attempted to pay for their snacks, but Derek physically picked him up and moved him away from the register. “Derek, what the hell?”

“I got it,” Derek said.

“You always get it,” Stiles said. They hadn’t been on that many dates, but Stiles hadn’t paid for a single one. He managed to split dinner once, but that was only because the waitress had already separated the check.

“Exactly,” Derek said, taking his card back and grabbing his popcorn.

“I could pay,” Stiles insisted.

“You could,” Derek agreed. “But you won’t.”

“Why not?” Stiles asked, throwing a popcorn kernel at Derek’s head.

“Because I’m going to pay,” Derek said.

“It’s a pack thing,” Erica said. “Don’t try to understand it.”

“But I want to understand.” Stiles wanted to understand as much as possible about this man that he was linked to and the family that could be his if he let fate take its course.

Derek gave him a long look. “You’re my mate. I want to take care of you.”

Stiles was torn. That was incredibly sweet but… “Taking care of me doesn’t always have to mean financially. And what if I want to take care of you?”

A man scurried out of their path at the sight of Derek’s glare. “We’ll work it out,” he said after a moment.

“Sure,” Stiles said, and he tucked his hand into Derek’s.

Erica chose what she considered the optimal seats for the movie. A couple the row ahead of them got up and moved. As the theater filled, more people sat near them, but not invading their space too much.

“You’re going to finish all your popcorn before the movie even starts,” Stiles said as Derek demolished his bag.

“Yeah, if I’m lucky,” Derek said. “I never understood why people think it’s a good idea to chew and crinkle packages all through a movie.”

“It’s an experience, Derek,” Erica said, than crammed some of her popcorn into her mouth.“Embrace it.”

Derek grumbled under his breath, but didn’t reply. The lights dimmed soon after and a hush went through the theatre.

Stiles had always liked previews. Some movies showed their best parts in those minute long clips so he didn’t feel the need to see them. Others got him excited for movies to come that he knew he’d want to see more of.

They were nearly to their feature presentation when Erica whispered, “Here it comes.” She and Boyd plugged their ears, while Derek and Stiles looked at them confused.

It didn’t take Stiles long to understand.

Dolby digital was the sound company for a lot of films. Their commercials made him think of ASMR as they tingled his brain, and then he forgot about it. But he watched as Derek’s whole body twitched with every thump through the speakers, and he could see Erica and Boyd wince. The whispered slogan caused Derek to vibrate in his seat as it echoed around them.

“You okay?” Stiles whispered.

Derek grunted in response, and slouched in his seat. Erica patted his leg.

The movie was fine, but Stiles couldn’t get into it. He was acutely aware of every noise in the theatre. Someone three rows down had a cold or something and kept sniffling. A person behind them rattled the box every time they ate a candy. At least three different chairs were squeaking.

Stiles was sure this was nothing new, but he could feel Derek twitch and tense beside him at every sound. To top it all off, they were only half an hour into the movie and they were in their second gunfight. Rapid fire machine guns thundered out of the speakers as bystanders screamed and cars screeched. Every blow the hero gave or received had a sickening thump.

An explosion went off on screen, and Stiles saw Derek’s hand curl into his thigh. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Derek whispered back.

“If you want to leave--” Stiles said. A girl in the row behind them shushed at them, and Stiles rolled his eyes. 

Derek shook his head, but his fingers were still buried into his thigh.

Stiles gnawed at his lip. This was not a good enough movie for Derek to endure being so miserable, but he wasn’t going to force him to leave. If he could distract him though… Stiles took Derek’s hand and tugged until he relaxed enough for Stiles to put Derek’s arm around his shoulders and snuggle into his side.

He started out just resting his head on Derek. When that seemed to be well received, he did a little experimental nuzzling. Derek readjusted his grip to hold Stiles’ tighter.

They got to stay like that for awhile, just cuddling together. Then the stupid hero started playing pool._ Scrape, scrape, thump, CRACK clackclackclackclack. _

Stiles could feel the way Derek tensed under him. He wiggled around a bit until he could kiss just under Derek’s ear. Derek let out a quiet sound that made Stiles smile. He decided to tease Derek by gently nipping his earlobe, then tracing the bite with his tongue. 

One thing lead to another, and Stiles ended up in Derek’s lap. 

It didn’t take long after that for a theatre employee to appear, flashlight in hand. 

The last thing Stiles wanted was for his Dad to be called out, so this time they elected to leave the theatre rather than make a fuss. He could hear Erica’s muffled laughter as they did the walk of shame out of the theatre.

Derek didn’t look at him the whole way back to the car and Stiles started to worry that he’d messed up. He’d just wanted to make Derek more comfortable, and he’d thought Derek was into it. They hadn’t really done much more than a quick peck or a kiss good night before now. Stiles didn’t think they were moving too fast, but he didn’t want to pressure Derek into anything either. 

After a long walk in complete silence, Stiles was relieved to see the car, and picked up his pace. He hadn’t gotten a grip on the door handle yet when Derek caught up with him, spun him around and pushed him against the side of the car.

Derek’s hands slid around his waist, while he nipped at his ear the same way Stiles had in the theatre. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Show me.” 

Derek kissed him hard and snaked his hands under Stiles’ shirt. Derek’s skin felt like it was burning against Stiles’. He kissed Stiles’ breath away, then started alternating sucking kisses and bites into his neck. Stiles was pretty sure the bruises would match the ones on his hips here Derek’s hands had settled and were gripping him hard. He pushed into them, rocking his hips against Derek’s and making him moan.

Abruptly, Derek stepped back and the sudden lack of heat made Stiles shiver. 

“We should get in the car,” Derek said stiffly.

Stiles blinked at the sudden change. “What? Why?”

Derek kissed the bruise he’d made gently. “Because you feel so good, if I don’t stop now, I’m going to have to drive home with sticky underwear, and I won’t do that with Erica in the car.”

Stiles burst out laughing and sagged against the car. “Meaning you would if she weren’t here? What if it were just Boyd?”

Derek shrugged. “He’d smell it, and he’d judge me, but he wouldn’t give me that _knowing _look, and he definitely wouldn’t leer.”

Stiles started laughing all over again picturing Erica’s expression in this scenario.

“Boyd also would keep his mouth shut about it when we got home,” Derek mused. “I mean, he wouldn’t actively help me get inside without anyone noticing, but he wouldn’t shout it to the whole pack as soon as we got in the door.”

Derek ushered Stiles into the car when his teeth started chattering while he laughed. They played Yatzee on Stiles’ phone until Boyd and Erica finally finished the movie.

Erica_ still _leered at them on the way home. 

***

“Hey! Stiles, hey!”

Derek’s ears perked up at the sound of his soulmate's name.

Stiles stumbled a bit when he turned around to see who was calling him, and Derek caught his arm before he could trip. “Thanks,” Stiles mumbled around his ice cream. 

Peter loved ice cream and this was the third time they’d bought it this week. Summer was really hitting them during the last week of school, so Derek didn’t mind. Derek was happy for any opportunity to see Stiles, to get to know him better and just be close enough to breath him in. Derek was prone to nightmares, and he kept waking up in a sweat with the sickly scent Stiles had when Derek had first found him lingering in his nose. He wanted to replace it as much as possible with clean boy, sweat, and dairy products.

“Stiles!” A tall tan boy with brown hair halted his jog in front of them, smiling broadly. “Hey.”

“Hi, Danny,” Stiles gestured with his spoon as he made introductions. “Derek, Danny the new lab partner. Danny, Derek the new soulmate.”

“That implies you had an old soul mate,” Derek said, wrinkling his nose. It wasn’t an idea that appealed to him.

“Does it?” Stiles tilted his head, squinting at Derek.

“Isaac,” Danny said, ignoring them in favour of Derek’s pack.

“Oh,” Isaac was leaning on Cora, as usual, but he stood a little straighter when he saw Danny. “Hey.” 

“It’s been awhile,” Danny said.

“Ages,” Isaac agreed. He introduced Cora as his soulmate, then he and Danny just stood staring at each other.

“Danny, hurry up,” called another boy, crossing the parking lot to harass his friend.

Derek assumed that the girl who followed was Lydia by the descriptions Stiles had given, which meant Danny’s friend must be Jackson. Lydia looked them over with shrewd eyes. “What’s this?”

“Isaac is a friend of mine,” Danny said. “I haven’t seen him in...ages.”

“You already said that,” Cora pointed out, curling her arm tighter around Isaac’s waist. 

“No, Isaac said it,” Laura interjected from where she was leaning against the car with Peter. 

“Still,” Danny said. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah,” Isaac said, slowly like he wasn’t sure.

Lydia made a slightly thoughtful noise, then straightened with a decisive nod. “You’re going to come bowling with us.”

“What?” Jackson said.

“Bowling, tomorrow night,” Lydia flicked her eyes to Stiles. “We have a standing double date with Allison and Scott, tomorrow you, Isaac, and your soulmates will join us. Danny and his date too.”

Jackson sputtered but Lydia cut him off with one quelling look.

“That fits with the plan,” Cora said, looking to Laura for approval.

“But Allison’s parents will have a shit fit,” Stiles said. “I don’t want to get her in trouble.”

“Allison can handle herself,” Lydia assured him. “Were you planning to just not see her all summer?”

Stiles shrugged weakly. Derek recalled him explaining that he liked Allison but they weren’t actually friends. They were both just… Scott adjacent.

“Well, you thought wrong, so her parents had better get used to it now.” Lydia switched her purse to her other arm and tilted her chin, daring him to challenge her.

“Okay, then,” Stiles said. End of discussion apparently, since Lydia spun on her heel and walked away, Jackson instinctively keeping pace while Danny followed after a quick wave goodbye.

Derek raised an eyebrow at his soulmate. Stiles just shrugged. “That’s Lydia for you. She’s either ordering you across her chessboard or ignoring you completely.”

“I like her,” Peter called.

“Shut up, Peter,” Derek joined his sisters in saying. 

***  
Bowling was another eye opening experience, or rather, ear opening. Stiles had already imagined that the thunder of the balls rolling down the alley and the crash of them hitting the pins would be unpleasant for Derek. He hadn’t factored in the squeak of the ancient machine resetting the pins, or the way the balls would ricochet on their way back to the return. A rowdy group of boys joked loudly around the pool table in the corner, punctuated by the crack of balls colliding. Two different families had screaming toddlers bored out of their minds, and a girl a few lanes down squealed with excitement every time she hit even one pin. 

Derek and Cora sat hunched together, waiting for their turns and trying not to flinch at the noise.

“I don’t understand how Isaac isn’t affected.” Stiles rubbed Derek’s shoulder in sympathy as Isaac lined up his ball.

“He’s not a born wolf, he doesn’t expect to hear it, so he ignores it.” Derek groaned. “Oh god, not now.”

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked.

Cora sighed. “If anyone wants food from the snack bar, you better get it now, they might not serve us after this.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked, then the sound of sirens reached him. “Oh.” 

Scott took Cora’s suggestion and raced to the snack bar for a hotdog, leaving Allison looking bewildered. “What is going on? Why are the cops here?”

“Because we’re here,” Cora shot a steely look at the door and sat up a little straighter. “Keep playing, I didn’t pay for these shoes for us to not finish the game.”

“They can’t kick us out, we’re not doing anything,” Isaac said, dropping into the seat beside Cora. 

Cora snorted. “Don’t be naive. They might not kick us out, but they can sure as hell make it unpleasant for us to stay.”

The door opened and Stiles counted his blessings that one of the officers that entered was Parrish who waved at them before going to talk to the cashier. 

They’d divided into two teams mostly just so everyone didn’t have to wait too long between turns, but of course Jackson had turned it into a competition. Derek took his turn, playing well enough to have Jackson aggressively taking a shot next to him. Stiles went after and counted himself lucky he didn’t drop the ball on anyone's foot, hit the ceiling, or get an immediate gutterball. 

Instead of letting him sink into the seat next to him like before, Derek tugged Stiles into his lap. “Hi there,” Stiles said, feeling a little off balance. He had never sat in someone’s lap before, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. It felt nice to be all tucked up against Derek, walled in by muscle, but it felt a bit like everyone was staring.

Derek nosed against Stiles’ neck. “Hi.”

“You doing okay?” Stiles asked as another crash had Derek flinching. 

Derek sighed. “Better with you close. I don’t think I like bowling alleys. The sport is fun but it’s too much in here. Noise and smells and lights.”

“Do you remember when Laura used to set up lanes on the lawn?” Cora asked, plopping down next to them and leaning on her brother. 

“Yes!” Derek’s face lit up at the memory. “Dad laid out plywood on the ground. When Laura didn’t win she’d complain it was because he didn’t lay it flat enough.”

Cora laughed. “And if Ryan didn’t win he’d say the lawn was sloped.”

“What about when you two won?” Stiles asked.

The siblings laughed. “No one else,_ ever _won,” Derek explained. “It was like third place was first place because Laura and Ryan were too competitive to not be the winners.”

“I could probably beat them,” Jackson said, rubbing the bowling ball in his hand. “I’m naturally athletic.”

Cora snorted. “Yeah, sure, you're gonna win against two born wolves. Sure thing, hot shot.”

“I could,” Jackson insisted, then nudge Danny to back him up. Danny only shrugged. Jackson stepped closer to Cora and Derek. “I could.”

Allison laughed cheerfully, breaking the tension with her genuine amusement. “I guess we should have invited Laura.”

“Next time,” Cora promised. “I wonder if we still have that set at home. It would be fun to have you out. We could have a BBQ.”

“That sounds nice,” Stiles said with a sigh.

“You think so?” Derek asked, hugging him a little tighter.

Stiles nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s been nice going all these fun places, but sometimes it would be nice to just sit and chill, you know?”

Derek looked so relieved Stiles could almost laugh. “We should do that soon. Really soon.”

“You could come over tomorrow,” Stiles suggested, he shifted a little so he could nip Derek’s ear. “My dad is working so we could make out on the couch.”

“Ew.” Cora sprang out of her seat, while Derek’s ears turned red.

“Hey Stiles,” Parrish said from directly behind them,

Stiles yelped and nearly fell off Derek’s lap, saved only by Derek grabbing his shirt.

Parrish laughed at him, before sobering back to his official deputy face. “I just need to ask you the usual questions to make sure everything's good here.”

“Ask away,” Cora said blithely.

“Any werewolves here aggress, berate, intimidate, or maul any staff or other customers?” Parrish asked. 

“No, officer,” the Hale pack chorused.

“That’s what I thought. Y'all enjoy your evening then,” Parrish said, giving them a nod with his hat before he joined the other deputy back at the front desk.

Cora snorted. “They’re getting a fine now.”

“What was that?” Lydia said. Cora explained that police visits were standard procedure when they came to town, and that the Sheriff’s department had started issuing fines for wasting police resources.

“That’s absurd,” Lydia said. “God, that’s ridiculous.”

Cora bristled. “Look, we’re just trying to go places like anyone else.”

“Exactly!” Lydia flipped her hair over her shoulder in a sharp movement. “You’ve just been sitting here. Jackson has been more aggressive than any of you.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true, dude, you have,” Danny pointed out. Danny’s date was pouting in the corner, having been ignored all night while Danny talked to Isaac.

“This can’t continue,” Lydia insisted. “You can’t be treated like this everywhere you go.”

“Welcome to our life,” Isaac snorted. “Why do you think I left school? Or the Hales were homeschooled? We never come into town for this exact reason. We’re only here now to make a point.”

“I don’t want you to disappear again once this thing with Stiles blows over,” Danny said quietly.

“I don't think that’s likely,” Derek said. “Mom isn’t going to let them forget about our right to be here ever again. 

“Guys, look, I got my hotdog!” Scott said, bounding up and holding his mustard slathered prize aloft. 

The werewolves grimaced.

“Don’t eat that, dude, it’s got spit,” Isaac said, apologetically.

Scott looked broken hearted. Allison patted his arm. “I’m sure it wasn’t that good anyway. I’m not really feeling bowling tonight, you want to go out to eat instead?”

They finished the game on principle, then went out to a roadside stand near the park. It was the first place Stiles had been with Derek that they didn’t see a deputy. 

***

Despite Derek knowing logically that Sheriff Stilinski was just Stiles’ dad, a good honest man, he couldn’t help feeling on edge at the sight of him. “Morning, sir.” Derek had been hoping Stiles would answer the door, but his father was there instead, in full uniform and eyeing Derek suspiciously.

“It’s 3 in the afternoon,” the Sheriff pointed out.

“Right.” Derek nodded awkwardly. “That it is.”

The Sheriff chuckled and shook his head as he opened the door wide. “Come on in, then, Stiles is just getting dressed.”

Derek followed the Sheriff through to the kitchen where he had coffee brewing and a to-go mug at the ready.

“Are you working very late?” Derek asked.

“Past midnight.” The Sheriff poured his coffee and added a liberal amount of sugar, glancing over his shoulder like he was worried someone would catch him. “Afternoons are my least favourite shift, but I don’t think it’s fair to ask something of the deputies that I wouldn’t do myself, so I take my share.”

“That’s a good policy,” Derek agreed. It reminded him that the Sheriff_ was _a fair man, and he’d never given Derek a reason to distrust him. Derek wasn’t likely to risk changing that now. He intended to treat Stiles with respect and adoration, and the Sheriff would see that soon.

The Sheriff leaned against the counter comfortably. “You and Stiles have plans for the day?” 

Derek could feel his face heat as the first thought that leaped to mind was Stiles saying they could make out in the couch.

“Never mind,” the Sheriff said squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t think I want to know.”

“Hey, I’m here, I’m done, what are you talking about?” Stiles said, bursting into the room in a whirlwind of energy. The last lingering tightness in his chest diminished at the sight of him.

“Oh, nothing, just heading out for the day,” the Sheriff grabbed his coffee cup. “Stiles, don’t wait up. Derek, don’t stay all night, my brain can’t handle the implication yet.”

“Yes, sir,” Derek mumbled, while Stiles squawked, outraged.

“Be good,” the Sheriff said, nudging his son out of the way so he could leave.

“Oh, you forgot your lunch,” Derek said, noticing the lack of lunch bag.

The Sheriff looked confused. “I don’t have a lunch.”

Derek returned the look. “But you’re working all night.”

“Yeah, I’ll take some time to grab something around 8,” the Sheriff said with a shrug. “They might have restocked the sandwiches in the vending machine or there's a diner across from the stations.”

“Don’t get--” Stiles started.

“Salad, I know,” the Sheriff teased.

“You mean you’re not going to take something with you?” Derek asked.

“Hadn’t planned on it,” he said with a shrug.

That would not do. It made Derek’s spine tingle to think of the Sheriff scrounging out soggy sandwiches or greasy dinner food with one measly pickle. “Stiles and I will bring something.”

“We will?” Stiles asked, eyebrow raised.

“That’s not necessary, Derek,” the Sheriff said.

“Yes, it is,” Derek insisted. He had no idea what they would bring, cooking wasn’t his strong suit and without his greenhouse nearby the selection might be limited, but he couldn’t just let it go. “I’ll figure something out, don’t worry. We’ll see you at 8.”

The Sheriff stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed. “Alright, if you say so. It’s okay if you change your mind, though.”

“Bye, Dad,” Stiles called absently as the Sheriff left. He leaned against the counter staring at Derek. “What are you doing?”

“Looking through your cupboards.” Derek considered that to be pretty obvious. “Do you have rice?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point.” Stiles retrieved the bag from the back of a cupboard but refused to hand it over. “You don’t need to make dinner for my dad.”

“We’ll need to make it for us anyway,” Derek said, reaching for the bag only to have Stiles pull it away again. Derek knew from experience that he could easily take it from him since his reflexes were faster, but that would be cheating. There was a reason Stiles wouldn’t give it to him even if Derek didn’t understand what that was. 

“Or we could order in.” Stiles gestured to the array of menus stuck to the fridge.

“Do you do that often?” Derek asked, trying to sound like he didn’t care either way. It was a long standing joke in the Hale family that any restaurant was just as likely to put arsenic in their food as they were salt. It was a joke. Except that it wasn’t really, and more than one of them had suffered for it.

He didn’t think he succeeded because Stiles looked put out. “Look, I don’t know much about cooking, and Dad works long hours. There’s only two of us, so when we cook we’re eating badly made leftovers for days.”

“I understand,” Derek said, though he couldn’t really imagine it. “I’m lucky, because I have my pack. Rory runs the kitchen, so she makes sure there's plenty for everyone, and lots of hands to make it.”

“That’s nice,” Stiles said. “That you can all help out like that. The logistics are more complicated for us. I mean, I try to convince him to get salads more than burgers and stuff, but...” Stiles shrugged.

Derek nodded. “Right, so I have some time now, and I can make him something.”

“But you don’t have to,” Stiles shoving his fingers through his hair.

“I know,” Derek said slowly, not sure what was making Stiles so frustrated. “I want to.”

Stiles stared at him for a moment. “You’d rather cook my dad some dinner, than go mess around with me.”

“Well, when you put it like that, no,” Derek said, rolling his eyes. “Obviously, I would rather be heading for the couch, but I can’t because I know that your dad won’t be eating properly, and it will distract me, so I’ll make him something quick, and then we can relax until it’s time to bring it over to the station.”

“Why?” Stiles said, throwing up his hands. “He’s a grown man, Derek, he’ll find food! You don’t have to hunt it up for him.”

“He’s pack.” Derek was unsure how else to explain, but that clearly wasn’t enough for Stiles. “It’s instinct to make sure everyone is provided for, but it’s more than that. Pack is more than just the connection we feel, it’s more than just family. We take care of each other. Part of that is making sure we’re all fed and rested. A meal isn’t just food it’s… It’s a time to come together and strengthen that connection, to look around and _know _you are cared for and you care in return. It brings us closer. And if we can’t eat together, we eat a meal prepared by pack, so that we can remember, someone made this with our comfort in mind.”

Stiles worried his bottom lip. “And you want to do that for my dad?”

“I want to do it for my pack,” Derek said, crowding Stiles against the counter so he could press against him. “You’re a part of that now, I will always want to see that you’re well cared for. Your dad is_ your _pack, so the same thing applies to him.”

“Huh,” Stiles said, curling his arms around Derek’s shoulders. He stared at him for a minute longer then nodded. “Alright, then, how fast are you at chopping? I bet we could do stir fry and rice pretty fast then make for the living room.”

“Sounds good.” Derek pecked him on the cheek and got to work. 

***

It went against every instinct that Derek had to walk into the Sheriff’s department. However, the same could be said for sending the Sheriff to work without dinner in the first place. Derek kept his eyes on Stiles’ back as he followed him between the desks to his father’s office.

“Yo, Daddio,” Stiles said, tapping a rhythm on the door of the office before walking in without a reply. 

Derek followed more slowly, but noticed the Sheriff hastily grab a file off his desk and shove it in a drawer. Parrish was in the office already with a guilty expression.

“This is a surprise,” the Sheriff said. “I thought you two were spending the night at home.”

“We are, well, we will be,” Stiles said. “Derek wanted to bring you dinner. Apparently it’s a pack thing.”

For all Stiles hadn’t really seemed to understand the point Derek was trying to make, he sounded pleased with the outcome. Derek put the covered dish on the desk. “It should still be hot, but you can always reheat it if you can’t get to it right away.”

When they were at home, Stiles had been adamant that they would just drop off the food and come straight back home, but now that they were in the office, he didn’t seem inclined to leave. He perched on the side of the desk and leaned toward his father. “What are you working on?”

“Official Sheriff Things,” the Sheriff said without any inflection.

“Like a case?” Stiles asked wiggling his eyebrows.

“That would be one of the things sheriffs do.” The Sheriff put his reading glasses back on, just so he could look at Stiles over them.

Stiles shifted his attention to Parrish, shooting him a charming grin. “What’s the case?” 

Parrish turned bright red and cleared his throat. “Can’t say.”

Stiles grin faltered a bit. He gave his father a long look. “Something’s wrong.”

“I don’t know what you--”

“No, this is not how this goes,” Stiles said. “I ask what you’re working on, and you tease and bluster and show me, not this. This is...serious. What’s happening? What’s going on?”

The Sheriff sighed. He removed the glasses again and rubbed his eyes. “We were looking at_ your _case, Stiles. We can’t really discuss it with you. There’s been some noise that I’m already too close to this, so I’ve been letting Parrish take the lead, but if people find out I talked to you about it, it could mess up the whole thing.”

Stiles got off the desk quickly, like it scalded him to sit there. “Right. Of course, that’s...yeah.”

“Thank you for bringing dinner, it was…” The Sheriff eyed the dish in front of him dubiously. “Unexpected.”

“Anytime,” Derek said. He did not say that he really meant every time. He fully intended to make sure that the Sheriff never had to frequent the vending machine again.

“I’ll see you later,” Stiles said, offering a forced smile and a wave. Derek followed even closer as they left, itching to be out where they could talk privately.

“You okay?” He asked when they got to the safety of the Jeep.

“I don’t know,” Stiles said. “I just don’t like thinking about it. Obviously I want those guys to go to jail and everything, but I don’t want to deal with it, you know? And what about the people beyond them? My classmates that looked at me like slime, the things they said. People on the street even, suddenly scared of me. That’s Argent’s fault isn’t it? Shouldn’t he be the one that pays?”

“He should pay,” Derek said immediately. “I just don’t know if he will. Justice rarely works in our favour.” Stiles shivered in his seat, and Derek took his hand. “I’m sorry that you had to be dragged into this, that your life was impacted so negatively because of me.”

“That’s not fair--”Stiles started.

“No, it’s not, but it’s true.” Derek kissed his palm. “Still, I can’t help but be glad you’re mine.”

Stiles gave him a weak smile. He didn’t say anything on the drive home, but he let Derek hold his hand when he didn’t need both on the wheel. Stiles went straight to the living room when they got home and dropped onto the couch. 

Derek was a little slow to follow. He stood over the couch until Stiles blinked up at him and said, “Hey. You wanna pick up where we left off?”

It was very tempting to do just that. They’d done some pretty heavy petting before going to visit the Sheriff, and Derek had intended to do more of the same when they got back. However, Stiles still seemed off. “Maybe. If you’d like. Are you sure you still want me here?”

“Of course, I do.” Stiles shifted restlessly. “If you don’t want to stay--”

“I want to stay, I want to spend time with you,” Derek interrupted. “But you seem upset. If staying will help, then great, let me stay. But if you need some time to yourself, I’ll go. Whatever you want.”

Stiles hesitated only a moment before he said “Stay,” but it was still a hesitation.

With a sigh Derek sat down beside him. “You know you have the choice, though, right?”

“I want this, Derek,” Stiles said firmly. “I want you. All this bullshit with the Argents and the stupid people in this town, it’s just that, bullshit. You’re my soulmate, we belong together and I’m not going to let them drive me away because sometimes it’s scary, or frustrating, or fucking enraging to have people stare and call the cops everywhere we go. You're mine. I’ve waited my whole life for you and I’m not letting you go.”

Derek could only stare for a moment as his heart filled. He tugged Stiles onto his lap. “Stiles, I didn’t mean to leave forever, I just meant give you some space tonight.”

“Oh, well,” Stiles said, squirming away. 

Derek held him fast. “But, thank you. We hadn’t talked about this. I know it’s a lot to take on, and I hate to ask you to be part of it. But you mean the world to me, and it would break my heart to let you go.”

Stiles smiled at him. “We’re not going anywhere.” He weaved his fingers into Derek’s hair and tugged, just hard enough to send a jolt of arousal through him. Derek let himself be pulled into a kiss. He slid his hands under Stiles’ shirt--exploring skin and tracing any bump or grove he could find, committing it to memory. 

He nearly dumped Stiles off his lap when a jarring bleep sounded the air and his back pocket started to vibrate. 

“Fucking phone,” Stiles said, as he regained his balance on the couch next to Derek.

“You’re the one who thought this would be a good idea,” Derek chided, digging the cellphone out of his pocket. The call display showed one of the pack phones but he wasn’t sure which one and who had it for the night. “Hello?”

“You have to get home,” Boyd said. There was a growl to his usual calm voice, and Derek could hear Erica swearing a blue steak in the background.

He was immediately up and getting his jacket. “What’s going on?” His tone had Stiles sitting up in alert.

“Fucking bastards!” Derek was certain that Erica was crying. “They ruined it!”

“We were at the mall and they didn’t call the cops,” Boyd said.

“Who?” Derek echoed. 

“I don’t know, whoever usually calls,” Boyd sighed while Erica started sobbing. “It wasn’t the Sheriff or a deputy this time, Derek, it was hunters. Grown men with rifles and arrows, calling us monsters. There were so many people at that mall, Derek, and they all just stood there. They sat and watched while they threatened to skin us and drove us away.”

***

“Thank you for driving Derek home, Stiles.” Talia sat at the head of the dining room table, looking out at the hallway. Erica had been taken upstairs after explaining what had transpired at the mall, and though Stiles was fairly certain she had stopped crying, the pack kept looking in her direction with concern and upset on their faces. Though Talia was among them, she was the most composed. It was fascinating to see someone look so clearly livid, and yet perfectly contained. 

She had not exclaimed about the unfairness as her sister Jocelyn had, or promised revenge with frightening ferocity like her brother Peter. She listened, considered, then told the pack, “We will not back down just because they’ve started acting like the monsters they claim we are. Perhaps it was a one time stand, and when they see it won’t work, they’ll back down. In the meantime, we travel in groups.” Everything else was practicality. Whether to increase their numbers for outings already planned, who they could reach out to in places they’d already established themselves as good customers with. The one that surprised Stiles the most was the assessment of Jocelyn’s medical supplies.

“I’ll put in an order for more gauze just in case,” Jocelyn said.

“You heal, why do you need gauze?” Stiles had whispered to Derek, and Jocelyn’s sharp eyes had flicked over to him, bright and accessing like her brother and sister beside her.

“We might heal, but a gunshot wound still bleeds,” she said. “Hunters know how to make it deadly. We won’t be caught unprepared again.” 

_Again? _Stood on the tip of Stiles tongue but he held himself back when he saw the haunted looks that plagued the pack. Their unofficial meeting didn’t last much longer, and now only Talia, Peter and his wife Alice, Jocelyn, Laura and Derek remained. 

“I would have sent one of the others to get him, but this was much faster,” Talia said.

“Anytime,” Stiles assured her. “Dad will understand why I’m late getting home.”

“Late?” Peter echoed with a raised brow. “Talia, he can’t go home tonight.”

Stiles tensed at the implication of being stuck anywhere, but he didn’t get the chance to voice his protest.

“Stiles isn’t an official part of this pack yet, Peter, he can go where he wants,” Talia said, and when Peter started to argue her eyes flashed red. Stiles hadn’t seen that happen outside of the alarm system in the places they’d been in town. It had a much stronger effect when done with purpose.

Peter flashed his eyes in return then turned his head, shifting in his chair so he was flush against his wife before taking a deep breath. “It’s his choice, but official or not, he _is _pack. Everyone is unsettled enough without feeling his absence.”

“That’s true.” Talia tilted her head in acknowledgement and focused on Stiles. “Would you mind staying tonight? I really would prefer it. With your father working, I don’t like the idea of you alone.”

Stiles only had to look at Derek briefly to see the hopefulness in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll call my dad to let him know.”

“Great,” Derek said, relieved. “I think Ryan has kidnapped your jeep and I wasn’t sure how I’d pry it away from him.”

“Kidnapped?” Stiles half stood in his seat to look out the wide front window, and sure enough his Jeep was longer parked near the porch. “What the heck?”

“There are packs all over California that bring their vehicles to Ryan to be worked on, he’s one of the best mechanics around,” Talia said. “He’s between projects waiting for some parts to come in, and tonight--” Talia broke off and looked up the stairs again before shaking her head.

“Ryan and Dad were really close,” Derek said quietly. “It’s hard anytime to know that he’s gone, but a reminder like this… Ryan needs a distraction and your jeep is sure to give it.”

With sudden clarity Stiles knew exactly what Jocelyn meant by_ again. _Derek’s father wasn’t the only pack member they spoke of in a past tense shrouded in pain. With advanced healing, werewolves should be long-lived. Too many among them had been struck down in their prime by bigoted people like the hunters that had come after Erica and Boyd.

After a call to his father - who was outraged at the prospect of armed citizens terrorizing his town and grateful that Stiles wouldn’t be spending the night alone - Stiles changed into a borrowed pair of sleep pants of Derek’s.

“We have a guest room if you’d prefer, but I was hoping you’d stay in my room,” Derek had said, so Stiles found himself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, trying not to toss and turn. He thought Derek was asleep, his breath was even, his eyes were closed and his body was completely relaxed with one arm pinning Stiles to the bed. He jolted when Derek suddenly asked, “What are you thinking about?”

“I thought you were sleeping.” Stiles gave in to the urge to twist around.

“No,” Derek said with a half laugh. “You’re like a giant pillow vibrating with tension. Not exactly sleep inducing.”

“Sorry,” Stiles flipped back onto his back, and it was unfortunately no more comfortable.

“It’s fine,” Derek said with a yawn. “I still like having you with me. What are you thinking about?”

Stiles snorted. While it was a fairly common question, it was one that Stiles often ignored. However, Derek had asked twice, and it would be weird to evade the question. “So many things, dude. It’s like I’ve got a hundred computer tabs open in my brain and I’m just flipping through them all.”

Derek opened one eye then closed it again. “That doesn’t sound very conducive to sleeping.”

“Tell me about it,” Stiles turned and ran his fingers through Derek’s hair just because he could and he liked the way it went all spiky in a million different directions. He also liked the way Derek glared at him when he did it, long suffering and indulgent. “Insomnia is my middle name.”

“Pick a tab and tell me about it.” Derek shuffled a little closer and rubbed his face against Stiles’ shoulder. 

“That is a dangerous proposition, sir,” Stiles said. “You could end up with an hour long presentation on the history of the peanut butter industry. It could spiral into peanuts themselves, then the circus, then elephants, then the black market in Eastern Europe. Next thing you know I’m telling you about my favourite pierogi recipes.”

Derek pushed himself up briefly to look at Stiles then settle back on the bed with a huff. “I think I’m willing to take the risk, just to see how your brain thinks those things fit together.” Stiles didn’t immediately respond and Derek nudged at him with his knee. “Don’t bottle it up, talk to me.”

There was a lot to choose from, and Stiles wasn’t sure what he was going to say until it came out of his mouth. “Was Peter serious when he said I was pack? Does he really see it that way?”

“Of course. We all do,” Derek said.

Stiles turned so he was facing Derek. “I can understand why you would, we talked about that today with the whole cooking for Dad thing. But I barely know any of them. I’m still struggling to get names straight, and figure out the giant oak that is your family tree.”

“Giant oak, I like that.” Derek was silent for a moment then he said, “I think it might be harder for you because you’re human. You can’t feel the bond in the same physical way that we do.”

“I feel something for you,” Stiles argued.

“I’m sure you do, but the soul bond is different, it’s like…. something outside of you that draws you together.” Derek rolled on his back and laced his fingers with Stiles’. “A pack bond is already inside you. It pours out and fills all the spaces inside of you until everything is full.”

It was hard for Stiles to imagine all of the emptiness inside him being filled but he wanted it. He’d been terribly lonely since his mother died, and while his father had done his best, some aches could not be soothed. “It sounds nice.”

“You’ll feel it soon,” Derek said firmly. “Maybe in a different way. We’ll ask Aunt Alice, she’s good at this kind of thing. Maybe even Casper.”

“Right, Casper.” Derek’s youngest brother spent so much time with the other wolves Stiles often forgot he wasn’t one. “We should take him to the library.”

“He’s got more than enough books,” Derek said shrugging one shoulder.

“Yeah, but he never sees any kids his own age that aren’t in your pack. I know that you all try and make him feel valued, but he needs to interact with more people. He might take the bite when he’s older, but I don’t think that’s an informed discussion if he’s never spent time with humans and seen the other side of things.”

“I guess,” Derek said, then he grinned. “You see? You want to do that for Casper because you’re pack.”

“You think?” Stiles asked. He didn’t know Casper very well but they’d talked a few times over dinner. Casper was a voracious reader, and was pleased to find that Stiles could keep up with his fast-paced descriptions of plots and occasionally satisfy a curiosity piqued by some passing line an author had included. Most recently they’d discussed different glassblowing techniques and Stiles wanted to find a studio to take him to so they could watch the theory come into practice. “Maybe.”

“Definitely.” Derek turned back onto his side, but this time away from Stiles instead of toward him. He used his grip on Stiles’ hand to tug him closer, shifting back so that they were flush against each other.

Stiles found the position shockingly easy to settle into, their legs tangled together, and the close press of skin on skin a comfort, while still having enough freedom to move and not feel trapped. He let himself relax along Derek’s back and rubbed his face against the curve of Derek’s shoulder. A sudden jolt went through him, like a lightning bolt straight to the chest. “Whoa.”

Derek shot a sleepy smile over his shoulder. “Our soul marks touched. We haven’t done that before.”

“Oh.” Stiles took a deep breath and relaxed again, this time conscious of the fact that the mark on his chest lined up perfectly to the one on Derek’s back. This time when they touched, a warm glow spread through him. 

This was what he’d been waiting for. It was the contentment that he’d seen on his parents’ faces when their hands linked. The dopey smile of Scott’s when Allison laid her arm along his. It was the look of satisfaction and belonging that Jackson and Lydia shared when she leaned into his side. This was joy.

“Tell me about the elephants,” Derek murmured.

Stiles fell asleep soon after and dreamed of lions jumping around wolves.

***

“Do you think anyone has read all the books? Every single one?” Casper bounced in the back seat hard enough that Stiles would have been worried about the suspension in his jeep if this was a week ago. Ever since Ryan had overhauled his jeep, it began to glide and purr instead of thunk and sputter. Stiles wasn’t sure what he’d done exactly, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

“You could read all the books,” Alexis replied to Casper. “It would take, like, forever, but if you started now I bet you could do it.”

“I could.” Casper stared in awe at his new library card, the ink of his blocky signature still fresh on the back. Derek had offered to put it in his wallet, but Casper had refused. He kept his large bag of books on the seat next to him and his card in his hand all the way from the library to the parking lot near the park.

Beacon Park had been patchy grass and rickety playground equipment with one lone vending machine near the washrooms when Stiles was a kid. A few years back it had been subjected to a complete overhaul, and it had rolling green hills, a big plastic jungle gym no one was in danger of getting tetanus from, and a snack shack. Stiles hadn’t had much cause to be on the jungle gym but there was tons of picnic tables around the snack hut and a fountain with benches. It made a great hangout spot where he and his friends could eat and talk and occasionally splash each other. 

Casper and Alexis each ordered a burger, as did Derek along with a small mountain’s worth of fries. “Can they eat all that?” Stiles asked. 

“God yeah.” Derek passed a couple twenties to the cashier with a smile. “They’ll be asking for ice cream too in twenty minutes.”

“We could just get ice cream now,” Alexis said, smiling sweetly up at her brother.

“It will melt, go sit down.” Derek nudged them toward a table. Stiles took them to sit down while Derek waited for the food. 

As Derek suspected, they made quick work of their burgers and demolished Mount Ketchup in short order. When the last fry was consumed, they started with pleas of, “just one rocket pop?” and “I promise I wont get any on my dress.”

Derek was reaching for his wallet when a squeal of tires erupted from the parking lot. Two black SUV’s had pulled up nearly on the grass, angled to block the straightest route to the jeep. 4 people piled out of each vehicle, dressed in black tactical gear and armed with rifles and a couple crossbows.

“I thought they were done with this,” Stiles hissed. The Sheriff's department had issued a cease and desist but since there weren’t part of a formal organization, they couldn’t formally shut them down. Stiles pulled out his phone and immediately shot a text off to his dad with their location.

“We should go,” Derek said, quickly tossing napkins and cups onto their food tray.

“We didn’t even play on the jungle gym yet.” Alexis’ voice quivered and she looked up at her brother with watery eyes.

Stiles detested the hunters all the more for the look of pain on Derek’s face. “It’s not safe right now, Alexis. There’s too many other kids around. If we leave, so will they, and then everyone will be safe.”

“That’s not fair,” Casper said, but he helped Derek take their garbage to the nearby can. 

“I know it’s not,” Derek said. “We’ll try again another day.”

“I wouldn’t advise coming back here.”

Stiles grabbed Alexis and pulled her closer to him. Derek was instantly at his side, tucking Casper between them. “Mr. Argent,” Stiles said. “I didn’t think you came out in such strong sunlight. You might turn to dust.”

Gerard sneered at him. “It’s my duty as a member of this community to see to the safety of its citizens. Something your father seems to have forgotten. But he’ll remember quickly when the next election rolls around.”

No one had run against the Sheriff in years, and no one really wanted to, but it always made Stiles’ throat taste like bile to remember his father had an elected position. But his father had told him long ago that he should never let his career come before something he thought was right. “Protect them from what?” Stiles asked.

“It’s dangerous enough to have a full grown werewolf wandering around town, but ones so young? They lack what little control an adult might have learned. Look at all of these children.” Gerard gestured to the park at large, where parents were grabbing their kids and pulling them, some kicking and screaming, away from scene. “We can’t put them at risk.”

The memory of Stella crying when she’d cut Casper with her claws came to mind. Stella was three years old, and already it was being instilled in her to be careful and mind herself. Casper had barely more than a scratch, but everyone took note and emphasized the importance of not letting it happen again. At ten, Stiles was confident that Alexis would have to be under extreme distress before she lashed out at another child. That was more than he could say for a good quarter of the kids currently on the playground. “Oh, so these kids that are minding their own business are a danger to society, but the ankle biter over there kicking sand in peoples’ faces isn’t? How about that kid that just pushed a little girl off the swing? Or those kids going down the slide backwards?”

Alexis was crying in earnest now, and Casper’s bottom lip was quivered as he tried to put on a brave front. 

Gerard glared at him. “You shouldn’t have concerned yourself with this. You should have run while you could, or at least had the decency to stay in the woods with the other animals. Have they bitten you yet? Or are they still toying with their new chew toy.”

“Hey,” Casper tried to take a step forward and Derek jerked him back. It was too late though, rifles were brought to eye level and cocked.

Stiles moved as close to Derek as he could trying to block the kids between them. A few people screamed and another person called, “What the hell, man?”

Stiles looked around, and there were people who had fled when the hunters arrived, but others stood by still. He could see a group of guys who had been playing baseball gripping their bats a little tighter as they inched forward. A middle aged woman had her pepper spray out and in her hand as she clutched her bag to her chest. A few different people had cell phones out and pointed at them.

For a moment he thought he’d be outnumbered. Then someone on the baseball team called, “You okay, Stiles?” 

Josh. Stiles didn’t even know his last name, but he’d helped out with Little League, and shown Stiles how to swing his first bat. That middle aged woman wasn’t a stranger, it was Mrs. Hinikey, whose kids had gone to summer camp with Stiles every single year from when they were 6 until 13. One of the kids behind their cell phone was George Midland. He was the A/V kid at Beacon Public School.

They knew him, had helped him become the person he was and been shaped by him in return. They could turn on him now, but he knew, with bone deep certainty that they wouldn’t.

“I’m gonna let you in on a little information,” Stiles said. “You’re pointing those rifles at two children. Children, Argent, who are scared and upset. One of them is a werewolf. One is not. Do you know which one?”

Gerard’s black eyes flicked between Casper and Alexis, looking for a sign of which might be human, and finding nothing. Alexis hadn’t so much as popped a claw. It was too ingrained in her to stay in control. Three of the rifles started to lower in uncertainty. 

“Well?” Stiles taunted. He wiped away one of Alexis’ steadily falling tears. “Are you going to shoot the monster, Argent? Or are you confused? Hard to tell isn’t it? No claws or fangs here, just two terrified kids. Maybe you’ll find, the monster isn’t either of them. It’s you. You’re the one scaring these people, you’re the one hunting people down in a public park.”

“You’re a principal,” George Midland called over. “What kind of principal threatens to shoot children?”

Mrs. Hinikey squeaked in shock. “This man is supposed to be in charge of our children? I believe in the second amendment but this is excessive!”

“Seems pretty backward to have someone so close-minded in charge of our youths’ education,” pointed out one of Josh’s teammates. 

“I am a qualified individual with the right to bear--” Gerard sputtered, but he didn’t get far.

“I’m sure the parent council will look very closely at those credentials,” Mrs, Hinikey said. Stiles could see that she was shaking, even as she lifted her round chin in defiance. 

Gerard glared at her like a bug under his shoe then tried to appeal to the rest of the crowd. “Werewolves are a danger to society, they’re out of control, ruled by their instincts--”

“Yeah, that will stand up really well when this video hits the internet.” George scoffed. “I think I’ll call it _Deranged Old Man Brandishes Gun at Defenceless Children.”_

“I think I’ll call mine _ Family Minding Their Own Business Attacked by Group of Armed Men._” Stiles didn’t recognize the woman who spoke, but he gave her a grateful smile anyway. 

“I think I’ll just give mine straight to the Sheriff’s Department, and see what they make of it,” said a man in a Beacon Hills Fire Department T-shirt.

“Well, Gerard, this has been fun, but I heard they’ve got a great new slide here, so if you’ll excuse us?” Stiles took Alexis’ hand and walked with purpose over to the playground. As he’d hoped, Derek and Casper followed with them. 

“Are you sure we can play?” Alexis whispered.

“No, but we should be allowed to,” Stiles said. “We shouldn’t be chased away just because other people are misinformed about who and what we are.”

“All those people,” Casper said looking back at the picnic tables, “They came to help us. They don’t even know us and they stood up and stopped them.”

“They knew me.” Stiles looked back too. Gerard was arguing with one of the other hunters as they pulled him back to the SUVs. “This is a community. It’s close knit, and small. It’s not perfect. It’s got a lot of work to do. But we try, and we look out for each other.”

“Like a pack,” Casper said, slipping his hand into Stiles’.

Stiles smiled over Casper’s head at Derek, who was still looking shell shocked and awed. The mark on his chest seemed to tingle at the very sight of him. Despite their rocky start, and all the shit they’d dealt with along the way, Stiles couldn’t imagine not having him in his life now. This wouldn’t be the last time they had to deal with the ignorance of others, but they’d overcome it, until those people stood out as fools while the rest of Beacon Hills gathered around them. 

Stiles grinned at Casper. “Just like a pack. It fills you from the inside out.”

***Epilogue

Laura finished braiding her daughter’s hair and added one last bow to the end. “All set?” she asked, smoothing Pippa’s dark locks.

“Set!” Pippa grinned up at her all excitement with no trace of nerves.

“We have to go now if we’re gonna make the bus,” Casper called impatiently from the doorway, as he ushered the other children out the door.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?” Laura asked. “It is your first day.”

“No, Momma, I’m gonna take the bus with the big kids.” Pippa pulled on a backpack that looked almost as big as she was to Laura. “You’ll walk up to the bus stop with us though won’t you.”

“Of course.” They went outside to join the other kids and started the long walk out to the main road. Laura suppressed a sigh of relief when Pippa reached up to hold her hand. Five years old seem such a young age to go off into the world, but they’d already kept her home an extra year, and she and Jared agreed Pippa was ready. Pippa herself had been thrilled at the prospect, so they’d signed her up. Laura had gone to all the “meet the teacher”s and “parent greets” that had been offered, but she still didn’t feel ready to watch her baby go.

“You’ll do great today won’t you, Pippa?” Stiles appeared beside them, walking hand in hand with Derek. 

“Yeah!” Pippa cheered, and some of the other kids shouted excitedly too.

“Didn’t think you’d be up and about this morning,” Laura said.

Stiles shrugged. “I thought I’d sleep in, but the excitement was contagious. We’re gonna see them off, and I’m going to enjoy the immense satisfaction of knowing that for the first time since I was Pippa’s age, it’s not the first day of school for me.”

Laura laughed but it sounded forced and brittle even to her own ears.

Derek let go of Stiles’ hand to wrap an arm around Laura’s shoulders. He didn’t say anything, and that was for the best. Laura was determined not to pass her nerves to Pippa. 

They reached the main road all too soon, and the kids all gathered around the makeshift bus stop sign one of the pack had made the second year they’d started sending the kids to school. Reams of pictures were taken, smiling, silly, and everything in between before the big yellow bus pulled up, and the pack kids piled on. 

“Bye, Momma,” Pippa said, opening her arms. 

Laura hugged her tight and whispered. “I’ll see you soon. You’ll be back before you know it.”

Pippa let go and turned toward the bus, then hesitated a step. Casper was waiting by the door of the bus, and he held out a hand for his niece. “Come on, Pippa.” His hand seemed to envelope Pippa’s smaller one completely, and Laura marvelled at how much her baby brother had grown. “We’ve got her Laura,” Casper said. “We’ll stick together.”

Laura had worried that as he approached 8th grade Casper would lose some of his studious calm in the wake of dreaded teenagedom, but he continued to be himself. He was close to his pack, loved books, and worked hard to build ties to the community.

Laura’s eyes stung as the bus drove away and she waved until it was out of sight before wiping away a tear. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing? Sending them off like that? I know things have improved, but what if some toad--”

“Laura,” Derek cut in. “They’re okay. We’ve talked about this. Integrating them into the community helps keep them safe, and this is the best way to do it. They can handle other kids being crappy. And if they can’t…”

“They’ll have each other,” Stiles finished. “That’s more than a lot of kids have. And if they can’t deal with it themselves, they’ve got us at their backs. They’ll be okay.”

Laura took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

Derek tugged her into a side hug. “You’ll be alright. Come back to the house. Jared and Holly will distract you.”

Laura’s mate and younger daughter were still in bed, undisturbed by the morning’s excitement. “Alright. Yeah, alright.”

Stiles was walking ahead of them. He looked over his shoulder with a twinkle in his eyes. “Race you.” He took off toward the house at a run.

Derek looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Go,” Laura said pushing him off. 

Derek grinned and squeezed her shoulder one last time before racing after Stiles.

Laura watched him go, and felt something settle inside her. This was right. This was home. And her pack was doing just fine.

*********


End file.
